Blood is Thicker than Water: City in the Sky saga
by Lil Lady Lost
Summary: She doesn't realise it yet but all her walls are beginning to crack and when they fail, she'll have nowhere to run. But in the end, would giving in really be so bad? Slow, well written Legomance. UPDATED chapter 35!
1. Revelations

'…_He's drunk again, it's time to fight._

_She must have done something wrong tonight._

_The living room becomes a boxing ring,_

_It's time to run when you see him…_'

_Nickelback__ Never Again _

Chapter Five – Revelations

'_Where the hell did that pony come from?'_ Yunalesca thought as Aragorn and Sam said their goodbyes to Bill. '_I swear he wasn't there on Caradhras, or when they were attacked for that matter Or the last month and a half. Strange, it was there when they left Rivendell…I'm getting too old for this._'

Ignoring this, she concentrated more on the situation at hand. It had been about three hours since they had first arrived. Yuna was beginning to wonder whether or not she should simply stand up and yell: "It's _MELLON_, you idiots!" A few random ripples in the water seized her attention. Merry and Pippin had grown tired of waiting around for the wizard, and were idly skimming rocks across the placid lake in an attempt to entertain themselves. Thankfully, Aragorn stopped them after a while. She had heard tales of a strange creature inhabiting the depths of the murky waters, and she hoped for the Fellowship's sake that they were just tales and nothing more.

"It's a riddle." The words broke through the entourage of thoughts that bombarded her mind and shone like a ray of light in the dark. '_Come on Frodo, carry on._' "Speak friend, and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?" Her inner-cheerleader leapt with joy as the Grey Pilgrim slowly said the word she had repeated to herself so many times it had lost all meaning.

"Mellon." With a creak the doors swung open. Yunalesca felt like crying tears of rapture. Once the Fellowship was, she assumed, some distance into the mines, it was with some effort that she managed to convince the muscles in her legs to work and allow her to stand. Listening intently to the conversation that was taking place inside; one statement hung in the air.

"This is no mine, it's a tomb."

So it was true, the great Lords of Moria had been overthrown, and the place was now nothing more than a graveyard for the dead dwarves and goblins that had fought. She had hoped against it, however little she wanted to see the dwarves again, it was a better fate then having to wade through piles of dead Orcs. Same number of smelly, unwashed creatures, she mused, but that wasn't the point.

"Get out of here. Get out!" An alarmed voice yelled, casting an echo around the hollow tomb. Yuna looked up to the entrance to the mines to see the fellowship hurriedly backing out of the stony cavern and looking around the interior apprehensively. She glanced down to the rippling water and cursed under her breath as a tentacle shot out from the murky depths of the lake and firmly grasped Frodo's ankle, dragging him towards the water's edge as he cried for help.

His fellow Hobbits rushed to his aid, trying in vain to slice of the offending tentacle amidst calls to the Ranger. After a short while, Sam had freed his master and briskly tried to get back into the mines with the rest of the Fellowship. Another ten grey-blue arms shot out from the water, glistening with moisture, and grabbed at the Hobbits. Once again, Frodo was swept off his feet by the creature, and was left dangling a short distance above the water's surface held by his ankle.

Yuna made a split-second decision, it was worth making herself known and having a small section of her pride shattered if she could save Frodo's life. She rose from her position and leapt onto what she assumed to be the creature's head as it emerged from the water. It wasn't so much of an elegant bound as it was a lucky fall, but she wasn't much worried about putting on a show at the current moment. The head itself resembled a piece of old, knobbly bark, and wasn't at all inviting.

After she had regained at least some of her balance, she looked up to see the Hobbit's face. It was a white mask of fear, his eyes were wide and he looked petrified, he seriously thought he was going to die. True, she had been involved in many near-death experiences, but to see the look of sheer and utter terror in this innocent hobbit's eyes almost made her hold his gaze for a millisecond longer. Aragorn and the others were outside by now, and busied themselves with hacking away at the many arms of the Watcher, desperately trying to get to Frodo.

Frodo cried out as the huge jaws of the beast parted to reveal a set of dripping, yellow teeth and a throat that could swallow any hobbit without chewing. Not wishing to become the main course, Yuna swivelled round and released the catch on her crossbow, sending a number of bolts directly into what she hoped were it's equivalent of eyes. It worked, the animal groaned and snapped its mouth shut, almost taking her foot with it in the process.

The only problem was that it only resulted in enraging the creature further. It's mouth opened a little way again, but shut as soon as a heel was dug firmly into the newly established week spot. Taking the initiative, she unsheathed a foot-long knife from her belt, and dug it into the base of the arm that held Frodo. The tentacle flailed wildly for a while, before the Gondorian came forward and sliced it off completely, sending Frodo directly into Yuna's unprepared arms, she caught him, but only just, and fell in the water in the process. Boromir was ready and waiting to take Frodo up and out of the water, and as he retrieved the stunned hobbit, Yuna concentrated on her own safety. The Ring-bearer safe, their primary objective was now to get away from the lake, and into the mines.

Boromir shouted something, but Yunalesca was more concerned with the fact that she had just been caught by one of the seemingly hundreds of tentacles, and was now being held captive by the creature, who didn't seem to like that fact that she had just sliced off a number of its limbs. An arrow was fired directly into the offending arm, and this gave Yunalesca the seconds of distraction she needed to free herself from its slippery grasp. Holding on to the arm, she tried to slide down it as fast as she could, but her plan was foiled as another arrow disabled the limb. She slipped (and quite gracefully too, she thought later on) and almost surfed down the remaining four or so yards of the arm onto dry land.

'_Well, there you go, possibly the most death-defyingly stunning thing you'll ever pull off and the only one who saw it was that stupid elf._' Her subconscious scolded. In truth, she was quite glad for the elf, even if he had messed-up her plan somewhat, at least he had given her a chance to get away, but now he, along with the rest of the Fellowship, had made their way through the rapidly collapsing doors of Moria. She didn't care about what the dwarf or the wizard said, they were about two metres high and the inscriptions weren't that impressive anyway, she wouldn't recognise it as a gate. Now Mordor had impressive gates, as did Minas Tirth, but that didn't matter right now. What mattered was getting through the doors before she was buried in the rubble. This didn't seem like much of an option, so she opted for getting through the doors before she was crushed or mutilated horribly by either the beast in the water or the collapsing walls. She mustered as much strength as her already tired body would give her, and sprinted through the doors as they gave way around her.


	2. Deliverance

"…Maybe life is like a ride on a freeway  
Dodging bullets while you're trying to find your way  
Everyone's around, but no one does a damn thing  
It brings me down, but I won't let them…"

The Offspring Staring at the Sun 

_Chapter Nine Deliverance_

They were off in a mad dash before more could be said. Already they could hear the enraged Orcs on their tail, they where now back out in the open and if indeed the seemingly thousands that where swarming behind them caught up, any chance that they had of getting out of this confounded place would vanish. This of course would happen to be the least of their worries, something terrible was coming and Yunalesca could feel it. She didn't have to see it to know it was there and that it was gaining on them, fast. It breathed power and rage, hunting for those whom had awoke it from its eternal slumber and she knew it would not stop until a horrible price had been paid. The Fellowship where trailing behind her now. She was easily the fastest there, fuelled by a desperate need to feel the sunlight on her skin once more, and was in no mood to succumb to their moderate pace. In spite of this she held back just a fraction and made sure to keep in a leisurely range of the party. This was lucky as Sam stumbled suddenly, tripped and had a severe meeting with the ground. Within seconds she was by his side, picking him up and dragging him along behind her.

"This is no time for a lay down, Samwise." She said, a little harsher than she had meant to. By this time the thing that in any tongue she would only be able to describe as a demon was but a few minutes away if they where incredibly lucky. She doubted very much however that they would actually ever live that long. Hundreds of foul Goblins where now closing in around them from every place imaginable, even the pillars where covered top to bottom in cruel eyes that gleamed in the darkness. They swarmed in from the darkness, encircling the party. Within seconds their path was firmly blocked by an impenetrable wall of crazed Orcs and Goblins. They screeched with delight at their quarry's emanate destruction. The small party huddled together, weapons drawn. They might be able to hold of the first fifty or so but after that they where quite literally dead meat. Yuna tightened her grip on the claw, awaiting the first move. And then, as the passing of time, a frigid silence fell upon the entirety of the immense hall, broken only by a wretched gurgling noise from behind them that quickly morphed into something resembling a roar. This grew louder with every irritable second. The horrid creatures that surrounded the party looked in dreadful awe as a burning light started to draw nearer to the entrance of the hall. They frantically looked around from one to another. On one hand if they stayed they would be able to kill the intruders, but on the other they knew that what was coming could easily obliterate each and every one of them. It is widely believed that Orcs and their associates are simply mindless killing machines, but this is not always so. Every once in a while they make a wise decision, and thankfully for the Fellowship, this was one of those times. As fast as they had come the creatures scurried away, into cracks and back up pillars. The group was left standing alone. The Dwarf let out a victorious laugh, while the rest of the Fellowship was more concerned with the rapidly approaching fiery light that shone from the direction they had just come from.

'…If I seem bleak  
Well you'd be correct  
And if I don't speak  
It's cause I can't disconnect  
But I won't be burned by the reflection  
Of the fire in your eyes  
As you're staring at the sun…'

The elf was ready with his bow strung and aimed at the apparition. This of course was futile, as was anything that most of them could come up with.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked warily, not taking his eyes off the rapidly illuminating hall.

After a while, Gandalf answered, his head bowed in anxiety. "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you."

'_If you already know that, then why are we still here and not a hundred yards further away!'_ Yuna thought, angry at the lack of speed and at the same time, fearful for what she knew was coming.

"Run!" He bellowed at last, much to her relief. Needing no encouragement, she took off at something that wasn't quite a fully-blown sprint, but near enough. It took them a little time to pass through a small arch leading to a large staircase. She quickly ran through and skidded to a halt just before falling to certain death. She was just about to turn back round when Boromir sent her almost completely over the edge, sending her even closer to said certain death. Legolas followed, not seeing them until the last second and by then it was too late, he crashed into them and with their combined weight behind her, Yuna lost her footing and plummeted down the ample drop.

She heard a voice above her cry out, but this was drowned out by the adrenaline she could almost hear pulsing through her veins. There was another path just to her left, if she could only grab on to that, it might just save her. Without thinking, she thrust out an arm in that general direction and winced as the impact shot through her shoulder. Her hand gripped onto it, and with that in place, she heaved her other arm up to join it. A wave of panic swept through her body as she felt the small portion of rock supporting her give way. It was with this thought plaguing her that she rapidly hoisted her torso above the path and kicked up into a split-second handstand before landing rather uncomfortably on her backside. Yunalesca saw the Fellowship hurrying down to her position, and rose as fast as her appendages would allow in their current state. Aragorn shot her a strange sort of look that almost resembled concern, she replied by hastily brushing herself off and speeding along the stone path.

They came to a part of the stair where a large chunk had long since fallen away, leaving a gap in the staircase. The elf was the first to cross, nimbly jumping the distance. He turned round and beckoned to Gandalf who leaped across after sizing up the space. Yuna readied herself to join them when she found an arrow missing her head by a matter of centimetres, without hesitation, she pulled out her crossbow and began to fire mercilessly at the Goblins that had appeared.

She felt another chunk of stone loosen beneath her feet and stepped off just as it gave way. Boromir, armed with a Hobbit under each of his arms, cleared the rift and landed rather _gracefully_ on the other side. Aragorn took Sam up in his arms and flung him into Boromir's. He reached for Gimli, but the Dwarf refused and attempted to clear the division himself. Of course, this was impossible considering his size, and as a result he was caught, in all places, by the beard by the elf who hoisted him up. The situation would have been comical, if not so dire.

There was no time to pursue this train of thought as the cracks in the rock appeared once again beneath her. This time several slabs fell away, but, anticipating this, she was already some distance up the steps. Aragorn had not been so lucky, and was holding on to stop himself from falling. She swivelled round and grasped his arm, hauling him upwards. Their predicament soon became apparent as they looked at the now sizeable crevasse that had been formed. Even with a long running start, she would not be able to make it, let alone Frodo. The Balrog was not far behind now; a sense of urgency gripped her. At the moment all she wanted would have been to get out of the mines alive, even though this, too, seemed impossible.

The ceiling overhead started to cave in on them, knocking yet another large piece of stone from behind. Whatever chance they had of an alternate route was now long gone. As if to add insult to injury, the area of stairs they were standing on seemed to move. Lower down, it had split and was now teetering dangerously close to the left-hand side. She moved over to the right to try and balance it out as Aragorn and Frodo leaned over in an attempt to get the sizeable object forward. They stayed in limbo for a few moments; not knowing whether the quickly conceived plan would succeed. Then, ever so slowly, the great walkway started on its descent. It collided straight into the section on which the other members of the Fellowship where already standing and both Hobbit and Ranger where launched into their waiting companions. Yuna however was less fortunate. She had decided not to get off at that precise moment purely because there had not been enough room to do so. But now she faced a far worse predicament as immediately after impact, the staircase had started on its rapid demise left of the remaining section, the fact that the rough impact had made her loose her balance momentarily only added to the wasted time. In the precious last seconds before it plummeted to the darkness bellow, Yunalesca had somehow managed to vault to where the Fellowship had stood moments before, but a miscalculation meant that she had missed her footing by centimetres, and had no choice but to hang on to the ledge with her gloved hands. A similar situation not long ago entered her mind, and the fact that the very section she was holding onto was once again caving away only served to add to the irony.

Legolas turned his head slightly as the rest of the Fellowship made their way down the steps. He saw the Half-Elf hoist herself onto the path. Fearing she might be left behind, he went to her aid, ignoring her protests and helping her up before the ledge caved away. Her eyes locked with his briefly, and for the first time, her face was fully visible in the firelight.

Her face was rounder than most elves, he could see that now, but the higher cheekbones and more defined features gave it away that she was no mere human. Her lips were full, and at the moment, slightly chapped, but still retained the cupids-bow shape that graced the features of most if not all elves. Her nose was small, sloping gently downwards. Her eyes were not particularly oval, but were rounded, and a deep emerald in colour, with just a hint of cerulean. At the moment, they were focused on him with a slightly confused expression. The scar adorning the right side of her face was long and had obviously been a very deep wound. It was still healing, however, so it couldn't have been made more than twenty years ago, he was amazed that the blow had not taken out her eye, it must have missed her lens by millimetres. Her frosty hair was pulled back in a practical bun that encompassed the back of her head. Now that he saw her face, it became apparent that she wasn't really anything special to look at, rather plain if you took away the outstanding features.

With this split-second well and truly over, he concentrated on getting back to the other members who were already speeding away from the scene. Yuna didn't waste time either; she was hot on his heels as they caught up.

'…When I ran I didn't feel like a runaway  
When I escaped I didn't feel like I got away  
There's more to living than only surviving  
Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying…'

Gandalf ushered them past as they entered the hall leading up to the bridge. The air was super heated as six-foot flames erupted around them, barring all exits but one that led to Kazad-dûm. The Balrog of Morgoth had finally caught them up. Her and Boromir where at the head of the party with Aragorn and the Hobbits a close second. She felt a tremendous roar vertebrate through her body as a wave of scorching breath brushed past them. She looked back and in that moment realised just how close it really was. This quickened her pace rather drastically and in moments she was almost half way across the bridge with the others not far behind. Upon reaching the other side of the shoulder width ford, she slowed down but still kept going. There was a faint pool of sunlight not far ahead and she was now more then intent on reaching it.

Hurrying up hopefully the last set of stairs in this god-forsaken dwarf-hole, she came to a halt at the top and looked back to the others who where following in her footsteps. But the old wizard was unfortunately not with them. He had stopped at the beginning to impede the demons immediate advance.

'…Though you hear me  
I don't think that you relate  
My will is something  
That you can't confiscate  
So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated  
By destruction in your eyes  
As you're staring at the sun…'

"You cannot pass!" He bellowed at the unfeeling monster that, in response, pulled itself up to full height and whipped its wings about him, sending dust and ash raining down. It was an awesome sight to behold and Yuna was glad that she was not in the same position as Gandalf. " I am a servant of the secret fire." He went on, raising his staff as a brilliant white glow started to take shape around him. "Wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!" The Balrog took out a sword from somewhere about its person and brought it down hard. There was a bright flash of light, and it was forced backwards as the sword ricochet off the shield that had been formed. It howled at the lone figure in front of it and tried to look as menacing as possible. Which wasn't hard, considering. "Go back to the shadow!" The Balrog took one step forward in defiance, his cloven hoof surrounded by flames. Again, almost from nowhere, a fiery whip appeared its many thongs bathed in flame, the demon cracked it against the wall behind him, whirling it around threateningly. "You shall not pass!" He shouted again, crashing his staff down on the rock. One thing the Balrog hadn't expected, however, was the fact that the portion of the bridge it was on was slightly weakened by the blow, and as a result, when he stepped forward, it crumbled away.

Relieved, the wizard turned back round to face them, taking a step forward. A step was all he managed, though, as the whip reeled back up and wrapped around his ankle, dragging him downwards. Frodo struggled with all his might against Boromir's grasp. Yuna saw him sink down so just his arms now held on. She made to run, but found her arm was caught on something unmistakably Dwarvish. Shaking Gimli off, she bolted to the bridge, resolute on not letting him fall. But a fraction of a second before she'd cleared the distance, his strength failed him, he was gone, and she was left grasping air. His last words lingered in her mind. '_Fly, you fools_.' She did just that, skidding round and dashing back. Aragorn was the last to go round the corner that led to the Moria's exit. Everything seemed to creep along in slow motion, and she was suddenly aware of the multitude of Goblins sporting bows. All her thoughts were now focused on getting out, so much so, that when an arrow pierced her right shoulder, it hardly registered in her mind. She was almost out, she could feel the cool breeze, but more importantly, she could see the light…

A.N. **READ ME **I would like to make known that we are well aware of the lack of description or elaboration, a scene that takes up about a paragraph in ours might consume an entire chapter in others, but this is only temporary. We both feel that if we tried to describe Moria in all its glory, it'd just be like reading FOTR again, but with a considerable lack of skill. Once we get onto the original story line (Which we will do if we are pushed hard enough) then things will start to get a lot more in-depth and 'our style.' I've also discovered that I, personally, write much better in 1st person, so we'll be doing more of that soon. As always, we would like to remind people that a change of perspective or style is indicated with a . **READ ME**


	3. Honesty

A.N. Tengaar haters prepare for some _serious_ bashing in this chappy. Rai gets a little too worked up sometimes and has to be sedated before she had Yunie biting the poor girl's head off. Literally, we mean, because she dishes out enough verbal abuse in this one to make a female body builder get emotional. Also, don't be alarmed by Valandil, he'd _supposed_ to be a really creepy little fucker, and that's exactly how we've done him. This chappy is basically just a shitload of contemplation and reflection, which we needed to put in. Bear with us. It _is_ valentine's day soon, isn't it…?

WHY THIS IS LATE: My comp, and pretty much every comp I have access to, has that nasty virus that's been going around, that kills the Internet through MSN. Because of this, I've had to wait until the weekend to post it in the Library, which has the slowest computers known to man, and my floppy drive is broken, so I had to wait an extra week to actually get it _off_ this damn machine, and…I'm sorry ;) Also, I haven't had ANY time to work on it as I've been getting home at about 7 every night because of rehearsals for school play on top of coursework (most of which is being handed in this week – eek!)

Man of the month: Johnny Depp (because we saw him (squeee) and he acknowledged our existance)

Chapter dedicated to: All my new premiere buddies who sat with us for 7 1/2 hours before the BAFTAS

'…Cause he wasn't that smart and she wasn't so strong  
But they went through the motions as if they belonged  
Playing their parts in this travelling show  
And they haven't got too far to go…  
…And she brushes off the temptation to lie  
It's easier just to ignore  
And then waltzing on glass is no way to survive  
When you trip on the truth, you fall back on the lies  
Happier times seem to balance those  
And they haven't got too far to go  
So he always wanted to be someone else  
She sometimes wanted to die  
They kept believing in spite of themselves  
Just time to open their eyes  
Cause he wasn't that smart and she wasn't so strong  
But they went through the motions as if they belonged  
Playing their parts in this travelling show  
And they haven't got too far to go…'

Glass Waltz - Vertical Horizon (crap song, but great lyrics)

Chapter 29: Honesty

I stared down at my fingers, hardly visible in the haze of the early morning awakening. Blood gathered at the tips, perfect, pear-shaped drops falling to the crisp white cover below. I couldn't tell anyone how many times I'd been jolted awake by the images in my dreams. They were so vivid, smells, sounds, so real, so close, so terrifying.

Throughout it all were the screams, moans, wails, tangled webs I felt I should understand, but made no sense at all. I pulled aside the covers with my clean hand, swinging my legs out and walking to the bathroom. I put my hand into the water filled basin below the large mirror, the bleeding from my nose had pretty much stopped, though what had caused it in the first place was still a mystery. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a nosebleed, they didn't happen out of the blue, that was for sure. An Orc shield to the face? Then again, that was worth a few stitches as well and ad left a scar that lasted a good few months. I sighed, held my head to the side and dipped it into the water. What was the point in asking any longer? These days, things just happened. There were no answers. I stared at what I could make out of my reflection. Once again, it was just one of those nights.

~*~

"You look terrible." Legolas commented, barely above a whisper. I smiled slightly, but couldn't bare to meet his gaze. Every time I looked into those eyes, the memory of what I'd seen last night skipped in my mind. I still couldn't believe it, not just for the fact that it seemed so unlikely that Tengaar would ever do a thing like that. But that a part of me had so hoped that what I'd suspected ever since I'd first seen Hix with her was true. So now that I knew, could I really keep it quiet?

"I give you your champions, Prince Legolas and the Lady Yunalesca!" A voice that seemed vaguely familiar announced. Throughout the crowd a cheer erupted, though at this moment I could frankly care less. What was she after? His crown? It didn't seem her style, not that that seemed to matter any more. But there was one thing I knew for sure. Legolas didn't deserve this. Sure, he was annoying and far too smug at times, but he had a good heart, and that was what mattered. Around the stadium, the cheers had died down, and the two of us were beckoned forward to the royal box. I shook myself out of my thoughts and followed Legolas to where Thranduil stood waiting, my trophy in his hands.

He made a speech. Something about honourable combat and such, not that I listened. All I seemed to be able to concentrate on was the woman one row back, who herself seemed to have her mind elsewhere. Tengaar's dark curls swept around her face in the early morning breeze, her eyes glazed over slightly. Even a blind could tell how beautiful the Evenstar's niece was, though, at least to me, it seemed that what she gained in grace she lost in mind. It was a tricky game she was playing, whether she realised it or not, anyone with sense would simply walk away now.

The crowd started up again as my trophy was passed down, Legolas gripping one handle and myself another. We turned to the rest of the crowd, Legolas dragging my arm up as he raised the object. It made me wonder just how _many_ times he'd done this before. I did my best to look pleased, but now that I knew I'd have to share it with him for eternity, it seemed tarnished somehow. With a final wave to the spectators, we exited the arena, Legolas halting as soon as we were out of earshot of the crowd.

"What is it? What's the matter?" He asked, concerned.

  
"Huh?" I looked up at him.

"Something's bothering you…is it to do with last night?"

"Um, yeah, sort of." I couldn't do it. I couldn't keep it bottled up. He had to know, he deserved the truth. "Legolas, there's um--"

  
"Lady Yunalesca!!" I was rudely interrupted. It was Valandil, running towards us from the direction of the stadium. "Lady Yunalesca," He repeated, now but a few feet away. "I had to see you before I left."

  
"Left…?"  
  
"Yes, I'm journeying to East Lórien with Lord Celeborn's party." I'd seen Lord Celeborn the evening before, though I'd only managed to share a few brief words with him, being manhandled away by Jen, who'd insisted on me conversing with some of her friends. "And it's all because of you!"

"Me…?"

"Yes, thanks to your example, I've been able to build up enough courage to do what I've always wanted."

"Oh…really? And what is that, exactly?"  


"I want to be a soldier, so I can rid the world of Orcs and Goblins and other evil foes." I regarded him for a moment. This Elf, instead of becoming a warrior at a time when cannon fodder might actually be needed, had waited until most of the risk had been taken out of the job. Running around after nomadic groups of Orcs and their associates was hardly a glorified position, but at least he wasn't going out to get killed. And, in the end, who was I to judge?

"Well, that's good. Have fun. " I smiled.

"I'll miss you, milady." He said quietly. Legolas' smirk was unmissable. I glared at him ferociously after which it promptly disappeared.

"As will I…" I mumbled. "You've been…um…very helpful." He smiled coyly.

"I will never forget you." He wasn't the first person who'd said that, though in these circumstances, it seemed unnatural. Then it was that a very short stroke of genius hit me.

"Be sure that I won't forget you either, Valandil." I leaned over and put one hand on his unresisting shoulder, keeping the other firmly attached to my trophy. "…Good luck" I gave him a kiss on the cheek at the very same moment I yanked on the handle. The Prince's fingers gave way easily, leaving me the sole owner of my trophy. "Thank you!" I shouted, already speeding away from the scene. I glanced behind me for the briefest of seconds. The two of them stood there, shocked. Valandil holding a hand to his cheek, and Legolas simply watching me go.

__

Men.

~*~

It was towards the end of the day that I finally won the war with my inner demons and went to see Tengaar. She hadn't been seen all day, and I knew exactly where she was. With fast strides I approached her room and opened the door quickly to find the two of them together. It looked like he was about to leave, but I had still caught them in the act. Their lips wrenched apart as I entered, but they both knew it was too late.

"Yuna! I…I wasn't expecting you…" She started weakly.

"Oh I'm sorry. I'll just go fetch Legolas, then, shall I?" Fear appeared bright in her fathomless eyes.

"No! You can't tell him! You can't--"

"Do you even _plan _on marrying him?" I snapped. "You've put it off for a good few centuries, it can't hurt to leave it a bit longer. Do you think it'll just go away if you don't think about it? What do you see him as, an _inconvenience?"_ I was getting angry, and subdued the emotion as best I could. At least Hix had the decency to not say anything, and Tengaar to look suitably guilty.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen…" She started, her voice breaking. I prayed that she didn't start to cry.

"Well you obviously did, because otherwise you would have done something to prevent it." I said levelly. I was being harsh, I knew, but I wasn't about to feel any sympathy for her. Not after everything I had witnessed. "I don't care what you do, but for the Valar's sake at least _tell_ him. If you decide you don't love him, and instead want to be with _him_," I waved an arm at Hix, "That's not for me to judge, and normally, I wouldn't care, but I _do_. I don't have many friends -- I doubt you'd know what that feels like -- but Legolas is one of them. He's saved my life, given me a place to live, and been a friend without asking for anything in return. I suppose this is my way of paying him back. Just tell him, and stop acting as if nothing's the matter when it obviously is if you can't be content with just _one_ admirer!"

I was in full flow now. I tried to stop the angry words from coming out, but I couldn't stop myself. Everything I'd felt since I saw her. The subtle jealousy of the way she was so effortlessly perfect, the way everyone looked upon her with such reverence and awe. The fact that she had an incredible family, lineage, position. She had everything, and I couldn't stop the bitter envy from seeping into my words.

"I'm _sorry!_" She choked. Valar, she was crying. Hix looked as if he was torn between comforting her and skewering me, and settled for hovering uncertainly. "It's hard, everyone expects me to be perfect, and it just gets so overwhelming sometimes. I agreed to marry Legolas partially because I was in love, and partially because I thought it would get the endless trail of suitors and courtiers off my back." She looked up at me sorrowfully, and I almost felt sorry for what I said next, but again I couldn't stop myself as something inside me snapped.

"For the Valar's sake, grow _up!"_ I almost shouted. "It must be so difficult when _everyone's_ in love with you. So what, you don't know what to do so you throw it all away on a whim? I'm sick of people like you, acting as if the weight of the world is on your frail shoulders. Stop being so damn insecure, everyone loves you, and you _know_ it. Do you even--" I broke off, mid-sentence as a fresh wave of tears enveloped her. "Look. I didn't come here to preach to you, just to tell you that I'm not going to sit around and watch as you run around with your _bodyguard_ pretending to care about probably one of my best friends. I don't know if he's in love with you or not. The longer you wait, the more he'll be hurt when the truth finally comes out, and believe me, it _will_ come out. If you don't tell him within the next few days, I _will_, and you bet your life I'm not going to pull any punches. I'm no good at that sympathetic, heart-wrenching crap, as you can probably tell. Have a _great_ night, milady."

I turned on my heel and strode out, ignoring her strangled cry. I could see a red tint around my vision, I was _angry_. I closed the door as quietly as my shaking hands could manage, and with carefully controlled breaths, made my way back to my room, wondering why I took it so personally, when it wasn't really my business.

Legolas was at his door when I turned the corner in the corridor. He saw, me and immediately his expression changed from one of suppressed humour to concern.

"Are you alright? What happened?" He was in front of me in a flash, the back of one hand icy cold as it touched my cheek.

"Nothing." I forced out. "Just…it's been a long day. I'm tired." It was a lame excuse. Both he and I knew it, but thankfully, he knew better to push me.

"Alright then. If…if you're sure you're feeling well…"

"I'm fine." I said, a little too tersely. "Goodnight." I slipped past him into my room and leant on the door. '_Why did this have to happen? Why now? I can't leave until it's sorted out, and that could take weeks if that polished little princess doesn't get her act together soon. Well, not if I have anything to say about it…_'

It _was_ my business, I decided. Seeing _her _acting with no visible regard for his feelings made something inside me snap. I realised I _did_ care about the Prince, however annoying he was. He had been too good to me for me to watch idly by as she continued with her _liaison_ as if I was the only one who remembered the small fact that they were supposed to be _engaged _to one another. I wasn't about to sit around and watch him get hurt because _she_ couldn't bear to hurt him by telling him, despite the fact that he would be worse in the long run.

__

'Stop getting so involved. That's the way. Attachment always leads to separation' I scolded myself for caring so much. Live your life without caring too much about anything, because you'll always lose it in the end. That had been my philosophy ever since I realised that people _died_. Perhaps it was growing up around humans, watching baby girls grow to maidens, mothers and crones. Death was inevitable for the mortals, and anyone I'd ever cared about was taken from me in the end. The only few Elves ever to have my respect had gone. Lords Elrond and Glorfindel in Valinor, Haldir in a makeshift charnel house in Helm's Deep, the last I'd heard from the morning after his death. There were more, but I'd learnt to forget and move on without a second glance.

Tears sprung unbidden to my eyes. It was hard. The woman a few doors down, probably comforted by her bodyguard, knew nothing of hardships, pain, loss. Her Aunt, perhaps, but that was one. I had no family. Only those I allowed to get close enough to care when they were taken.

But enough anguish for now. I took a deep shaky breath and steadied myself, standing up straight instead of leant against the door.

It was only then I heard his footsteps retreat to his own room, and my mind raced.

~*~

I awoke the next morning and felt a foreign feeling wash over me as I recalled the night before. Regret. I shouldn't have been so hard on her, one part of me thought, but she _did_ deserve it, another urged. I sensed a hefty chunk of self-reflection and much woe to follow. It was my place to tell her, wasn't it? I was Legolas' friend. As far as I thought…

No, of course I was. He wouldn't have even attempted to help me after the first time I'd ignored him in the forest if he didn't consider me a friend. I was his friend, and therefore I cared if he was going to experience any severe emotional scarring any time soon. Tengaar? Who _was_ she? She seemed to just hang around when it seemed appropriate that she remind the female population that she and the Prince were supposed to marry. If that was so, then why did I care so much when I saw her effortlessly link arms with him, or the way she smiled, lighting up the room as she caught sight of him. But so many others did the same 

Did it only bother me because it was reciprocated…?

But…why should that be an issue? I had no known desire to take her place, so why should I be so envious of Tengaar, but not of Narin, who was, after all, a princess, even though her lack of _absolute_ perfection made her far easier to like. What happened to make me so bitter? Was it the lack of any companionship in thirty mortal lifetimes? True, I had never cared for the weakness and heartache that love inevitably brought, but could it really be so bad? I felt strangely isolated as I contemplated this entirely new line of thought.

My parents had probably been in love. That was what happened, wasn't it? Two people met, fell in love, married, had children. Although in this case, their first child watched as the father left and the mother was left to fade into death. They didn't even give her a proper funeral. She was the village witch, the evil one, the white-haired elf sorceresses. And all of this for love. She was counted as a lady, I knew that much. She told me many times about her father, the son of one of the Lady's handmaidens. My grandmother had been just like her, and just like me, although whatever our heritage was, it seemed to have been diluted somewhat through the lack of pure blood. My mother could have had the life of a Lady, married a great Elvish lord, and had other children, those more deserving than I. But she didn't. She threw it all away for love.

And now Tengaar was willing to do the same.

The link made me think twice about my judgement of her. Perhaps I was being too harsh. If she loved him, why shouldn't she be able to give up the great possibility of someday becoming queen of Eryn Lasgalen if it meant she was happy?

I hauled myself out of bed and scowled at my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I splashed cold water onto my face, knowing full well I wouldn't get back to sleep. Summer's end was fast approaching, though I couldn't really say how the seasons went up here. I had been away from home for far too long. Leaning on the basin, I mentally listed the pros and cons of my remaining here. Pro, I was welcomed here. Con, how did I know they weren't just being polite? I had more than outstayed my welcome. Pro, I had grown to like the group of friends that had unquestioningly integrated me into their lives without judgement or question. Con, no one was that accepting, they had to be holding back the endless questions and prejudices. How did I know they didn't think of me as almost everyone else did?

Pro, the Prince had been too nice for me to simply pack up and leave him.

Con, attachment meant separation, pain, the endless, empty feeling of loss. The sooner, the better. Cut things off before they got too serious, that was what I told her last night. Tell Legolas now and save him even more pain later. I was a hypocrite. I didn't belong here. I couldn't stay here. I had to leave.

Still with my head bent down I craned my neck slightly to look through the ajar door to the bedroom. There in my field of vision was the chest containing all my belongings. Well, at least those I valued.

  
As if drawn by an inaudible call, I made my way over to it, unhooking the latch and swinging open the lid. I unfolded the shimmering cerulean fabric and lifted the sheath out, drawing the blade silently. I ran the flat of the blade down my cheek, remembering how long it'd been since I'd held her. _Luccrecía_. The thought set off a pulse down my spine.

  
A sudden flash. Pain erupting behind my eyes. Memories flooded into my vision. I gasped, bringing my hands up to dig into my scalp, sending the blade clattering on the floor. It had only lasted for the briefest of moments, but my head still reeled. I opened my eyes, glancing at the sword. The same compelling urge made me pick it up again.

There was a sudden rapping on the door. Startled, I sheathed it, shoving it back in the cloth and closing the chest.

"Yuna…? Are you awake?" It was him.

"No." I replied, feeling a little more like myself as I pictured the look on his face.

"Um…can I come in?" I looked down at myself. The under-tunic I wore to bed was loose, hanging off one shoulder, and with sleeves that only showed my fingers. It also, however, only came down to just bellow my backside. I smirked, getting to my feet.

"Sure." He opened the door a crack, and I had to stop myself from laughing at the expression of utter scandal on his face as his eyes diverted downward on their pilgrimage to my face. I gave him a frank oh-just-get-on-with-it look and watched him suppress a gulp and force himself to look me straight in the eye.

"Are…are you alright? About last night, I mean," My stomach dropped. Had he heard? Did she tell him already? "You just looked a little…_flustered_, that's all." His eyes flickered to the gleaming trophy that had taken up residence on top of the vanity. He wisely kept his mouth shut on that particular issue. If I had to verbally as well as physically kick his princey behind, I most certainly would.

"I'm fine. I was just a little tired."

  
"You haven't been sleeping much lately, have you?" It was more of a statement than an actual question.

"I've just been a little restless. Maybe it's all this comfort. I need some good old forest floor to get me back to normal." No one else would have noticed the way his face fell slightly as I finished the sentence. It was a lie, of course. I loved the forest, but I _hated_ the long, cold nights sleeping on a lumpy, twiggy floor where I'd often be awoken by the tree I was huddled against deciding to get up and take a walk. Of course, I'd never admit this to anyone.

"Well, we're probably going to have another one of our little campfire excursions in a few days, which I know you hate but are going to attend anyway."

"Don't worry, I will. Otherwise you'll probably get your enraptured sister to drag me." He chuckled uncertainly. "So how does it feel? You know, your best friend…and your sister…"

"Oh. Um…Well, she's not really my sister, in that sense. By blood and name of course, but I don't think of her as a sister primarily, just as a really close friend. She's always been there for me, and vice versa, and I'm happy for her."

"You're not bothered by what people say?" Firowen had a rather impressive reputation, and many thought he saw the Princess as merely another conquest.

"Of course not, and neither are either of them. They both know that none of them are true. They deserve each other, and I'm glad she finally worked up the courage to do something, because I knew Firowen never would have."

"Why's that?"

  
"He didn't think he was good enough for her. He thought that if she didn't think of him like that, and he tried something, she'd think he was just using her, didn't care about her, the list goes on." He shook his head. "For someone who can have most women eating out of his hand within five minutes, he's surprisingly insecure about what women he actually _like_ think of him." I noticed suddenly that he wore riding clothes.

"Where are you going?" I asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

"Firowen's, um, going for a ride around the city walls to check up on the border guards for his father. He asked me if I'd go with him. Apparently he wants to _talk_ about something…" I grinned.

"Have fun." With a half smile and a wave he was gone, and I was left to my all too active thoughts.

__

"How do you cope?"

His voice escaped my mental lockdown on memories and surfaced to one long afternoon sitting in the Hornburg and watching the empty horizon stretch across the fields of Rohan. I had climbed the tower of stairs to find solitude, and found him there instead.

__

"How do you cope with…with loss?"

He didn't know how to take Aragorn's supposed 'death', and asked for advice. And I, being the great agony aunt I was, told him _exactly_ how I coped.

__

"I don't…

…That's how I cope. I never put myself in a position where I would have to 'cope…

…One piece of advice, learned well through many unpleasant experiences: Never get close to anyone. Never form steadfast friendships, never make too many friends, never let anyone too close, never fall in love. Things never last, one way or the other, they're always taken away…"

A philosophy I would defend until I could breathe no more. It had only failed me when I disobeyed it. It always was proven in the end. I still tried, now and then, my socially starved inner airhead longed for friends, and I, fool that I was, sometimes dared to hope that this time might be different. Like Boromir, he was a good example. I had tried to befriend the fellow cynic, and he was dead the minute I turned my back. It always happened. I wouldn't be surprised, I thought darkly, if the Prince and the son of the Wood Captain weren't found dead a few days hence. It was a depressing line of thought, I knew, but it _was_ true.

And what had he said?

"That's no way to live your life."

  
And for the first time, I saw it as such.

"Sometimes…isn't the time you spent together worth that pain?"

And now, for the first time I thought outside my little box. I had come here, made good friends, and found myself putting off leaving for Valinor. And would I change things? If I could, would I ever reject him outright and leave the very next day after arriving here?

And as I stood there, thinking to myself, I realised.

Not for the world

~*~

"Maybe if I chopped it _off_, hmmm? Would you stop then? What will it take for you to realise those poor mares aren't in season, and are _not_ amused!" I furiously brushed the last of the caked-on mud from his coat, perhaps a little harder than was necessary. "Stupid horse." Of all the horses in Arda, why did mine have to be the horniest? I didn't even _know _that horses got pleasure out of it, though obviously mine was just some sort of hybrid who was just out to make more work for me. But that train of thought was quickly cut off as a stable hand offered to do the rest, and said that the Princess asked where I was. Not one to be rude to royalty, I made my way back to the palace.

Narin was coming down the corridor as I walked up to my room. She smiled, and, biting her lip, spoke in a coy voice.

"Um, could I talk to you for a while?" I knew exactly what, or rather _who_ the topic of conversation was.

  
"Sure." I nodded towards my room, and we entered, her plopping down on the bed and hugging her knees. "So, you and--"

"Is it _that_ obvious?" She cut in, anticipating my line of thought.

"Yes."

  
"Do you think everyone knows?"

"Yes."

"Do you think my _father_ knows?"

"Yes."

"Oh _Valar…"_ She dropped her head. "He's not like that, you know?" She started randomly. "Everyone says these things about him, but he's not like that really, it's more of a show. He's just…really sweet…"

"_Him_ or your father?" She chuckled and raised her head so just her eyes peeked out from her arms.

  
"Both, I suppose." I could see the crease at the corners of her eyes indicating she was smiling.

"So…how do I come into all of this?" I asked, not really understanding what she wanted to talk about.

"Well…if It wasn't for you I doubt I'd ever have worked up the courage to tell him that I, um…you know. And when I finally did then everything just _happened_ and now suddenly we're together and he just acts like it's the most normal thing in the world, and…I don't know. I think he realises I'm still new to this, and he's just trying to cut out that horrible awkward bit at the beginning when neither of you knows what the other thinks and what they'll think if you do this, or that, and it's just so stupid, you know?"

  
"No, but carry on. I'm guessing you like gushing about your new-found admirer." She blushed, and continued.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is that, well, thank you. For everything. No one would dare talk to me like you do, and it's given me a new perspective. I think…I think it was the day you, um, _groped_ him and my brother." I grinned. "I just really admire the way you just _do_ things without worrying about the consequences or anything, you just _do _it…"

"Most people would call that reckless, or impulsive, but alright."

"I thought that if you can pull off something like that, then surely I could actually admit to something that I knew, he probably knew, and I'm sure half the Wood knew." She looked towards the window, a smile setting in perfectly. "And it's all thanks to you."

"Don't say that. I just gave you a kick in the right direction."

"More than that." I was awarded with another of her frighteningly sincere smiles. The silence hung. "So, have you set a date?" I furrowed my brow.

  
"For what?"

"For your departure." Did they want me to leave so badly they were willing to drop badly timed hints into conversation? "Oh…I thought you were leaving soon…" She said at my confused expression. "At least, that's what I heard, though I was surprised you didn't tell us earlier."

"Well, I _was_ thinking of going back to Entwood soon, but I never told anyone. Who said it?"

"I don't know. I was looking for you earlier and I heard some maids talking about you."  


"And what did they say? Go on, I've heard it all before." She giggled.

"They said that it was a shame you were going to be leaving so soon, because that probably meant that they'd have to accommodate some prissy courtier. They said you were a lot more…_interesting_ to take care of, because you're always so confused when someone tries to do something for you." I raised a dark eyebrow. "They like you here." Alright, so perhaps I _hadn't_ heard it all. Then, in a meek voice: "I like you here. We all do. Do you have to leave so soon? At all?" I was speechless. But I had to go. I had already decided, I couldn't stay here forever.

  
"I have to. But…" A new brainwave hit me. "But maybe it doesn't have to be forever. After all, they've survived without me for so long, surely they can manage again." Her eyes lit up.

"You'll come back?"

"Maybe. I want to go over the sea soon, but the call isn't so strong that I have a risk of fading. At least, not yet. But perhaps I'll come back here for a while. Until others decide to go and build a new kingdom for Thranduil to rule, because I doubt he's going to let a little thing like there being no kingdom prevent him from being King." She laughed and flung herself forward to tackle me in a hug. I found myself laughing as well, and for the first time in my life, I felt I truly belonged.

~*~

It was some time later that we walked down the hall, her arm wrapped around mine as she chatted away. I stopped suddenly as I saw Legolas walking towards us, a rather confused expression on his face.

"Hi…" He started, uncertainly. Then it hit me, Tengaar's room was in that direction. She must have told him. Clever girl.

"What's wrong?" Narin asked cheerily.

"Oh, um, it's just that…Tengaar sort of called off the engagement, and I'm a bit…" Instantly, the Princess switched to mothering mode, and released me, opting instead to look dreadfully shocked with one arm around his shoulders.

  
"Oh! You poor thing, are you alright? What did she say? Why would she do that?"

"I, um…I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that she said she didn't love me and she only realised this after she met and consequently fell in love with her bodyguard." Narin's jaw hit the floor.

  
"_What?!_ She was being _unfaithful?!_ What a little-- Oh, Valar, Legolas, how do you feel?"

"Confused." He said without hesitation.

"Well that's understandable, you've just had a very big shock and I'm sure you're confused about how you feel, and--"

"No, no, I'm confused because…I didn't really care…" A weight I didn't know I'd been carrying lifted from my stomach.

  
"What do you mean?" His sister backed away slightly, her eyebrows knitted together.

  
"When she told me, I just said that it was her choice. I couldn't force her to love me, and to tell the truth, I can't remember the last time I thought of her like that, and so I was glad that she said it first, because I doubt I'd be able to."

"You _told_ her all of that?"

"Yes." He shrugged.

  
"And what did _she_ say?" It was as if her and Jen had swapped personalities, though I'd heard that happened to people who had someone.

"She hugged me, and thanked me a lot for making it so much easier for her. In fact, she was really, really happy. The thing is, I think we both felt the same about it. She liked someone else, and…well in any case, now I'm just confused."

"Why's that?" I spoke for the first time.

"Aren't I supposed to be feeling some sort of anguish? Or an overwhelming wave of grief? That's why I'm confused. It's just not happening. I'm sure it'll kick in soon, but until then I'll just try to get used to the idea that I was engaged in the morning and now I'm not. With little or no regret whatsoever. Just…" He looked straight at me. "The fear that that Aryana Vailariël person is going to trap me somewhere with those insipid courtesans on the second floor." The second floor housed the minorest of nobles and their delightful offspring, all of whom wasted no opportunity to shove their microscopic bosoms skyward in an attempt to capture the Prince's heart. With a perplexed smile, he was gone, probably to break the news to his father.

"Well, imagine that." Narin said, cocking her head. "I'd never have thought her capable of doing something like that. But then, I never thought _you_ capable of changing my life."  


"Well I wouldn't go _that_ far." I said, not an ounce of modesty in my tone.

  
"Well _I_ would. I'm finally in a relationship with someone I've been almost-betrothed to since birth."

"What?"

"Well, Firowen was supposed to marry Legolas if he was a girl, but he wasn't, and when I came along, technically we should have been set up together, but somehow people sort of forgot about it, and he was at that whole 'girls are evil' stage of his childhood, so he outright rejected the idea, but traditionally, we should have been married now. Only my father's not so controlling as to even _attempt_ to marry me off, but Firowen kind of hinted that it was a shame, and I think he's getting to something. And I'd just like to let you know that if he is, and you really _have_ changed my life, then it's all because of _you_!" She grinned, giggled, and sped off down the corridor.

__

Honestly, these Wood Elves…

A.N. Sorry for the shortness, but the next chapter (or possibly the one after that) is really, really long. So review and make us happy. Also, just so we're clear, Tengaar was being an evil bitch with Hix, who is her bodyguard that we saw in chapter...25? 26? Something like that.


	4. Memories

'…Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear,  
And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer,  
It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague,  
Haunting mass appeal,  
Lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel,  
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,  
With open arms and open eyes, yeah,  
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there,  
So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive,  
Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive, oh, oh,  
It's driven me before, it seems to be the way…'

_Incubus Drive_

_The __Two__Towers_

Chapter Thirteen Memories

"Fangorn." Gimli breathed. "What madness drove them there?" The dwarf was stood with Legolas to one side and Aragorn to the other and all were left gazing into the depths of the gnarled forest. They had just discovered the clues as to where their quarry had not so long ago ventured. Though the question of why was still left unanswered. There was the obvious, that, to them, it seemed the safest place to run. But could there have been more?

In one unanimous effort, they left the horses and ventured past the shady borders into the darkness beyond. They journeyed for little more than a few minutes in utter silence. Instead they took in their surroundings. It wasn't pleasant in the slightest. The air was humid and stagnate, where the sounds of birds would usually be heard, in its place there was an eerie creaking from the ancient trees. The dwarf noticed a bush with blood tinting its leaves. He drew nearer; rubbing a little between his fingers and tasting the substance.

"Orc blood!" He exclaimed, spitting out the minuscule particles that were inhabiting his mouth. They ran a few metres deeper into the forest, still taking the path they hoped the Hobbits had chosen and now with a greater intensity.

"These are strange tracks." Aragorn remarked, kneeling beside a large imprint in the mossy earth.

"The air is so close in here." The Dwarf went on, still scanning the perimeter.

"This forest is old." The Elven archer mused. "Very old." A pause and then. "Full of memory…and anger." Slowly, from about them came a long, low groan. Gimli immediately grasped his axe defensively in front of him. "The trees are speaking to each other." Legolas said, though it wasn't surprise tinting his voice.

"Gimli." The Ranger whispered hurriedly. "Lower your axe." The dwarf did so with a slight hint of reluctance and shortly after heard a rushed sentence from the elf directed at Aragorn. He tried to make it out but lost hope after concluding that the tongue used was that of Elvish. Swiftly the two moved on, leaving him somewhat behind.

"The white wizard approaches." He made out from the blond whilst drawing nearer to both his companions.

"Do not let him speak." Aragorn whispered once more. "He will put a spell on us." With that, he unsheathed his sword, leaving it as a sign for the others to ready themselves also. "We must be quick." He continued after a few tense moments. They turned at once to where the figure was assumed to be. Axe was thrown, arrow fired. Both rebounded off a shield of light that surrounded the wizard. The sword in the human's hand was useless, its blade turned orange as if it had been heated in a flaming furnace. They stood back, blinded by the light that rained uncaring upon them.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits." The voice came, deep and clear.

"Where are they!" Aragorn shouted back.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday." The voice replied, matter of factually. "They met someone they did not expect." It went on. "Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you?" Questioned the Ranger, stepping forward ever so slightly. "Show yourself!" He shouted once more, getting tired of this fools game. The figure promptly stepped out from behind the beaming light. The three stared awed, unbelieving. Was it some trick? Some ghost or phantom of the mind? Or was it really Gandalf that stood there, as real as air they were breathing. "It cannot be." Said Aragorn, unwilling to believe what his own eyes were telling him. The elf came to his knees, Gimli following a moment later. "You fell." He went on, stepping nearer to the wizard.

"Through fire." He confirmed. "And water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside." A pause and then "Darkness took me. I strayed out of thought and time. The stars wheeled ahead, and every day was as long as a life age of the earth. But it was not yet; I felt life in me again. I'd been sent back, until my task is done."

"Gandalf." The Ranger exclaimed drawing close. He now believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was indeed his old friend. And yet the wizard looked at him with somewhat uncertainty with regards for the name.

"Yes." He paused. "That was what they used to call me." He nodded, Aragorn confirming this fact with a short nod of his own. "Gandalf the Grey. That was my name." He seemed to be remembering some far off time when it was last used.

"Gandalf." Gimli broke in, overcome by joy.

"I am Gandalf the White." He corrected them, his eyes saddening. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

They left the spot where the affair had taken place not long after. Gandalf led them on and for a moment it was as if he had never left.

"One stage of your journey is over." He spoke to all three. "Another begins. War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

They neared the border of the forest, though it was not the place where they had previously left the horses and the Dwarf loathed the thought of having to run around after the four-legged beasts. Yet, when they stepped out into the open air, there stood Hasufel and Arod with one addition beside them. It was from what he could make out a mare, though he had never had any real fondness for horses and knew little. Its coat was light silver grey and it seemed rather large, even when compared with the two standing next to it. What surprised him even more was the figure that stood, smoothing down Hasufel's mane as she whispered soft, comforting words in a strange tongue to the beast. She stood still; not acknowledging their presence as Gandalf called to Shadowfax. The same mousy grey cloak adorned her shoulders, the same silvery white head of hair was now held back from her face by a clasp at the back of her head, all strands bound in tiny braids, neat and functional.

As the white stallion, Shadowfax, bounded over the hills, impressively back-lit by the early sun, its master turned to the woman, whom had approached him holding an old grey cloak, which she brought it about his shoulders and fastened it in a friendly gesture. He nodded in thanks and turned to his waiting steed. The Half-Elf then looked to the waiting three, leading the horses to their respective owners. She glanced at them questioningly.

"Where is Boromir? Is he not with you?" Genuine concern flashed through her eyes. A hush fell over them.

"He…he fell." Gimli started, "In Amon Hen. He died bravely, protecting the Hobbits 'til his last breath." The concern turned to a brief glimpse of grief, before the she-elf's eyes turned back to their usual stony indifference.

"Oh …" Was all she said, lowering her head and closing her eyes for a fleeting moment. _"Namaarie, rwalaer, aa'lle Nierninwa ten'oio tela e'Viresse…"_ The three that actually understood the language also lowered their heads in respect.

She recalled a short conversation between her and Gimli as they readied their horses. It was brief, yet as the others overheard, it answered a lot of unasked questions.

"Yunalesca, I…forgive me if I seem rude, but…why _are_ you here?" The dwarf sounded strangely wary of his words. Yuna smiled slightly.

"You mean: why do I always seem to appear whenever it is that I am needed the least? Well, for a great many reasons, actually. First of all, I was in the area when Gandalf just happened along, so I suppose you could call that circumstances. Secondly—" There was a pause as she hauled up a heavy cloth and slung it over Túlka's back. "Secondly, because I have nothing better to do. And thirdly, because…" She paused again, in thought. "Because…I know this may seem strange to you, but…I've lived here for most of my life. I speak with many of the Ents, and they tell me of what the trees say. I can…feel what they feel sometimes. When the Orcs came, hundreds of them to the south, and started cutting down the trees without a second thought, I…could hear their pain. I could hear them crying out. It's almost like seeing your family, friends, everything you've ever known destroyed before your eyes, and knowing that there's nothing you can do to stop it." She realised she was ranting slightly and looked up. "I'm sorry. But if the Ents won't fight, then I shall take it upon myself to do anything I can in their place. At least if I die fighting, I'll die knowing I tried to do the right thing."

She was mounted now, and Gimli was reluctantly being lifted to sit behind Legolas, eyes fixed on Yunalesca. He nodded slightly as a light curse escaped his lips, and they rode off into the light breeze.

There was a great distance between Entwood and the riders now. The horizon was turning from blue to a vermilion and fuchsia hue as the sun continued its descent from the now evening sky. Relentlessly, the horses went on, every comprehensively toned muscle working to further their progress. Miles and miles of endless green stretched out in front of the party, broken only in places by a hill or boulder. This was the Riddermark, home to the Rohirrim and birthplace to undoubtedly the finest horses in all of Middle-Earth.

"Gandalf." Shouted Aragorn above the wind. "When will we break for night? The horses are tired for we have ridden full velocity for the past few hours. They cannot keep up this pace much longer." The White Rider looked back for a moment. It was true he and not considered this fact and had indeed the held intention of ridding clear through the night. The main contributing factor to this was that he was ridding Shadowfax and the mighty beast could have run for three days straight without more than a couple minutes rest.

"There is an area of bluffs just in front of us where we might find some shelter." He replied following a moment's thought. "I would not care to camp out in the open for these lands hold safety no longer."

An hour or so later and the party of few had settled in a space surrounded by three large bluffs. They decided to risk a small fire, this was fortunate, as there wasn't much kindling in any case. Legolas stood staring into the blaze as it popped and snapped, flames licking upon the now black sky. He had been wondering if they would happen upon the she-elf after seeing the forest. Fangorn had been as she'd said no animals, no birds, just overgrown trees. And yet, it still held a mystery for him. It had seen so much of the world gone by, had so many things to tell if you just took the time to listen. In truth he had been reluctant to leave but they had other more pressing matters to attend to. He just hoped he would get another chance to visit it and spend time in its company.

The, once again, only woman in the group sat next to the fire with the others. Nobody spoke, all too busied in his or her own separate thoughts. The only sound was the faint rustling of material as Yunalesca brought an old cloth over the gleaming metal of a sheathe. It seemed on first glance to be no more than a plain silvery-coloured metal scabbard, but upon closer inspection, one could make out the swirling patterns lightly engraved, like veins of colour through the sheen of the metal.

The silence was eating away at the Elf's mind. Since none of the company seemed inclined to speak, he took the liberty himself.

"An Elvish blade?" He asked, walking a little closer and taking a seat on the plush grass beside her. She shrugged.

"Most likely. I cannot be sure, it has been in my possession for as long as I can remember." She replied, paying attention to the hilt now. It was a strange silvery purple with a hint of sapphire, edged by the same silver material of the scabbard. A single white opal was fixed in the dead centre of the two arcs of the hilt just before the blade. After a few moments of an uncomfortable silence, Aragorn spoke.

"Does it have a name?" She remembered his own sword, Andúril, the shards of Narsil re-forged. A name…she had never really thought about it before. Now that she did, only one seemed appropriate.

"Luccrecía." After a few brows were furrowed in confusion, she spoke again. "After my mother." No more was said on the subject.

They retired soon after, though few found the peace they desired and so with restless hearts they whiled away the night.

It was just before dawn that they broke camp and continued the journey towards Edoras. The country grew flatter as the day wore on, making it easier for the horses to pick up speed. However it would still be at least another two days before they reached their destination. They broke for camp that night, making idle conversation to ease their minds as the moon shimmered above.

On the morn of the following day, there was something that had Yuna rather disturbed. To her knowledge, she had never been this particular route to the Halls of King Theoden, and yet…it seemed strangely familiar. It was little things, the positioning of the mountains in the distance, the landscape. It all brought up memories and a sense of nostalgia of things long since forgotten. It was almost as if once, an age ago, she has called this place…home? Was that the foreign feeling that welled up inside as she glanced about her?

Before she knew it, she found herself reigning Túlka off from the path Gandalf was setting and riding east. The half-elf was overcome by a feeling so strange, so unfamiliar. She felt like she was going to some place where someone did truly love her, at one time or another…

She had only been ridding for a couple of minutes when slight suggestions of an ancient civilisation started to crop up from the countryside. Nothing much, a rock here or there, but Yuna's mind did the rest of the job. She remembered vague images…village people…their house.

Her house.

She could remember it, and more importantly, where it was. She drew her mare to a stop and dismounted with an agility that made her instantly recognisable as elf kind. Searching around, her eyes finally rested upon the spot.

She could almost see it standing there as it had once, every stone in place. Now, all that was left was earth and a slight mound in the otherwise flat region. Slowly, deliberately, she paced up to it. '_No, it couldn't be._' She thought, disbelief cluttering her mind. '_By the Valar, no, don't do this to me, not now…_' Reaching for the sword that was lodged in its sheath strapped to her back, she drew it and in one swift motion thrust it down into the cold earth. She grimaced at the clang that sounded through the air as it struck stone, knowing full well what it meant. She knelt down and touched the mossy soil. Something was there, hidden beneath it. Digging her fingers in, she tore away at it, only having to go one or two inches before a slab of dull grey rock was uncovered. She stared dumbfounded for a few moments, the skin on her fingers made raw by the hard surface of the stone. Her eyes were fixed on the worn letters, scanning them over and over in disbelief. It was all she could do.

The she-elf's disappearance was unexpected. One minute she was riding right alongside Aragorn and the rest of the group and the next she was far into the distance, getting further and further away from them. They came to a halt, looking searchingly at one another.

"What…" The Ranger started but Gandalf intervened.

"I am sure she has her reasons for doing something of this sort." He said, hinting that he knew more about her than previously. "Come along, let us see where she has got to." He reigned in Shadowfax and they started after her. It was a few minutes before they once again caught sight of her steed. Yuna was a little way away from the mare, walking towards what seemed to be some sort of small mound. She didn't acknowledge their presence; in fact Aragorn doubted she even knew they were there. Which only made it all the more clear just how serious her reason for leaving had been. They dismounted close to the spot she had done as Yuna went to stand beside the protrusion in the earth. A metallic grate resounded through the air. There are times when things merely have to sound expensive, that definitely was one of them. Her sword now lay a few inches deep in the earth and she was on her knees digging up clumps of soil and withered roots.

The Ranger was getting slightly irritated. They had little if anytime to spare in getting to the Golden Hall and yet she was wasting it on digging up piles of dirt. He started pacing towards her, determined to find out what exactly it was that would constitute delaying them. There was something now in front of her apart from the mud, it looked like a slab of plain rock…with something engraved, yet worn away by age.

Something was definitely carved into it, faint, but still present. Letters. An 'L', a 'w'…or could that have been two 'c's? An 'r', another 'c,' and an 'a.' They were the only things he could make out from his vantage point. He stopped in his tracks. It couldn't be. After all this time she would happen to find it now. Legolas came up slowly behind him.

"Luccrecía." The elf whispered. The Ranger nodded, wishing he hadn't been so harsh, even if it was only in his own mind. He knew what it was like to loose a mother and made it a point to always visit her grave when in or passing Rivendell. Yuna had her head low now, hundreds of little braids covering her face. She looked up, a single tear running down her tanned cheek. It was a strange sight, to him at least. In truth he didn't know the half of it, for it was only one of very few times in the half-elf's life that she had let any semblance of a tear escape. But the pain was too much and even though she hated them seeing her weaker side she just couldn't keep it in.

Gandalf strode past them, coming to stand beside her kneeling form. He put his hands on her shoulders to reassure her that it would be fine if they stayed a while longer but she picked herself and the sword up nonetheless and made past them to the horses, gritting her teeth and wiping her face clear of any indication of her grief. Aragorn searched his mind for something, anything to say. He had been in somewhat the same situation sometime ago and felt it his obligation to her after the way he'd left things in Lorien. A part of him hated to admit it, but their old feud was a stupid thing to keep alive and besides, she had proven herself to him well enough. Still, nothing came to him and in the end he just settled for mounting Hasufel as the others did similar.

They were on there way again, no one having said a word to Yuna, either out of respect or just the sheer inability to do so.


	5. Light

'_…I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone, I certainly do._

_I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time, _

_Feel free._

_Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind), _

_Hold it up (to the rays)._

You wait and see when the smoke clears 

_You live you learn _

_You love you learn _

_You cry you learn_

_You lose you learn _

_You bleed you learn _

_You scream you learn…_'

_Alanis__ Morissette You Learn_

Chapter Ten Light

Yuna ran, practically collapsing out of the darkness and shattering the light. Her eyelids rebelled against the sun's pure brilliance and shut tight leaving her momentarily blind. After a few seconds constant blinking, the pain grasping her eyes subsided and she coaxed them open, taking in the scene unfolding in front of her.

The entirety of the Fellowship possessed at least one of three qualities; sorrow was held throughout but was most alive on the faces of Merry and Pippin who lay on the placid rock, crying freely in each other's company. Anger was a relentless tool for Sam who struggled for freedom from Boromir's hold, frantically trying to make it back into Moria. Then there was anguish and the uncertainty of what would happen next. This was a feeling that had already started to seep into Yuna's conscience. She failed to stop a numb sensation creeping over her, the sudden burst of action and constant lack of rest had more than stretched her boundaries. She could see the Ring-bearer in the corner of her eye, stumbling down in an incoherent daze. Aragorn had morphed into the makeshift leader of the party, no one seemed to complain so neither did she. They all had more important matters to attend to. Gandalf's death had been hard on all of them. He seemed to be the Fellowship's source of hope, their ray of light, and now he was gone. The council had been her first encounter with the wizard. She held a sort of unspoken respect towards him, but other than that, he was no more than another one of the nine doomed to die somewhere around the Black Gate.

If they even got that far.

That was another thing pressing on her mind. When she was tracking them, she thought there was no chance they were going to succeed. Now she was sure. With Gandalf gone, what little hope they had seemed to go with him. Was she the only one who saw how futile the whole journey was? Was she the only one who realised that there was no chance that they would actually get within a hundred leagues of Mt Doom? Sighing she collapsed down on a rather convenient collection of boulders. Now the whole idea of just eight making the perilous route to Mordor seemed foreign and unreal to her. Like a quest mapped out in some ancient storybook. The reality of it was that Gandalf was now gone, the Fellowship had no guide, no one to trust in to get them there, and Frodo lost someone who was like a father to him. The Hobbit seemed to feel better in his presence; at least there was someone who knew what was happening, where they were going, and someone he could talk to about the Ring.

Yes, the Ring. She hadn't thought about it much, striving to push it out of her mind. She was here to help them as much as she was capable of. The last thing the Ringbearer needed was yet another troubled mind to worry about. Besides, Yuna was almost three millennia older than the majority of the Fellowship; she wasn't going to let the Ring get to her as if she were some inexperienced child.

'_Ow_' She thought as she attempted to undo the clasp of her cloak. Her right shoulder was throbbing violently. Dropping the corresponding hand to her lap, she brought her left around to examine the area. At least half of a thick and altogether menacing arrow shaft was protruding from an area close to her shoulder. It was a lucky shot. If it had hit just a few centimetres in either direction, an abundant layer of amour would have stopped it. But, as it was it had impacted on flesh and now was imbedded quite deep into her arm. Blood, sticky and almost black was dripping rather liberally from the wound, winding down the rest of her arm slowly. Without hesitation, she wrapped her fingers around the hard wood and bracing herself for the pain, yanked it out as fast as she could manage. She tightly clutched the offending object in her hand for a moment as she tried to regain her breath, the sudden blast of pain having winded her momentarily. No matter how hard you tried, you could never fully prepare yourself for something like that. Tossing the piece of wood to one side, she tried her best to undo the remains of her cloak and rip a sizeable strip of cloth from the hood. It proved to be somewhat a hard task for someone in her condition but she prevailed in the end and carefully bandaged the injury. It wasn't as good a job as she would have liked but for the moment it would just have to do until they rested for longer, giving her the chance to clean it.

The rest of the group was too preoccupied to notice. Aragorn had somehow managed to get them on their feet once more and they were slowly moving away from the entrance to the mines. She followed suit, not wanting to be left behind at this point.

It was something she had feared for quite some time now, she supposed as far back as Rivendell. Something happening to Gandalf and Aragorn taking charge in his stead. Old issues still hung in the air and she didn't know or care to assume whether he would hold the same tolerance that the wizard had. What would happen considering this particular dilemma, only time would tell? But one way or another, time always ran out.

It was hard for him not to hold on, but instinct told him he had to. If he'd let the young Hobbit go and he'd run back, the foul creatures that – for the moment – were trapped there would tear him limb from limb. He would not let blind rage send him to that end.

So the wizard had fallen. He slowly registered the fact that the Halfling had given up the futile battle, and now stood limp and sobbing. He relinquished his grip somewhat, but still kept him in his hold, just in case. Inevitably, a lump rose to his throat. He had lost numerous friends or members of his family. As a warrior, he never let it get to him. As a human, it hit him every time. He could completely close himself off, but you'd lose a part of yourself in the process. He didn't want to let that happen to him, no matter how much power he'd receive.

"Legolas," He heard the ranger in the back of his mind. "Get them up."

Feeling outrage surge through him because of this, he burst out: "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" He hadn't meant to say it, but raw emotions had overcome his self-control. The elf looked back mournfully, but did as was asked of him.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" Said the Ranger in reply. "We must reach the golden woods of Lorien before then." He nodded weekly. It was the best he could do. There was no point in trying to fight his leadership, past experience confirmed that he was unlikely to win, and besides, the Ranger was right. Staying 'til nightfall was simply welcoming death.

Giving the Hobbit that was still firmly planted in front of him a heavy pat on the shoulder, he moved forward. It was at this time that he noticed the half-elf, sitting around a cluster of boulders off to one side. He considered going to talk to her, but decided against it. Even though he had known her for a very short time, and talked to her for even less, he knew when she did not wish to be disturbed. Even though she probably knew the old wizard even less then he, she would still have been affected by his death in one way or another. Now was not the time.

A few moments later, after talking over with the ranger, the elf and the dwarf decided upon their current route and were ready to begin their journey anew. It was this difficult to get the Hobbits on the move, they were nearly inconsolable, thankfully, however they still retained some sense. They started down the slope; it was plain to see that the next two hours would be anything but easy going. However, with the Ranger gently leading them on, they would make it, somehow. Minutes past and he registered someone coming up behind him. It was the half-elf. She gave him a withered look from her green eyes that conveyed the barest hint of sympathy. As she stepped into sync beside him, he once again considered talking to her, asking if she was all right. Somehow, he already knew he wouldn't get an answer without some note of patronised sarcasm. He set his eyes forward, to the rolling emerald landscape that was effortlessly stretching itself out in front of them. If he squinted, he could just about make out a vast forest to the south. He assumed it was the golden woods as they seemed to be headed in that vague direction, although he had conversed with the others, at the moment he could only remember vague details of their former journey.

"Have you been to Lórien before?" He asked the she-elf. It was an attempt to start up a conversation; he needed something to take his mind of their current predicament they had been more than unwillingly thrown into. She sighed slightly before turning her head to look at them.

"More than a couple of times." There was a hint of hesitation to her voice. "Whether you will be welcomed there…is an entirely different manner." There was a pause. A silence that was not altogether awkward but unwanted all the same. He noticed something that had only lately daunted him. The cloak that had always hidden her frame was gone. A tattered band around her arm, all that remained. He had seen her in it for the short days he had known her. Only ever seeing a brief glimpse of what lay underneath, a gloved hand here, a booted foot on some occasions. Seeing her without it was almost…odd. What she wore was quite practical for what little he knew of her lifestyle. For starters, the brown leather brigandinetrimmed with a green boarder that had engraved golden ivy snaking up it could more than withstand a battering. In addition, it was buckled at the front in three places and had intricate and exotic designs and symbols etched on to the back. It covered a simple, long-sleeved, green v-necked top. Her boots were nimble soled for swift, light movement and reached just below the knee. Then there were the various pieces of amour here and there. On both fore arms, just after the shoulders, was a metal spaulder that once again was adorned with an array of strange patterns. Strapped to both hips and calves where small daggers, slightly larger ones hung from either side of her hips and these were held in sheaths attached to two belts that criss-crossed each other. In fact the only thing that seemed to contradict this practicality was her moss green leggings, simply because they laced up at the front, leaving a slim section of skin revealed.

"Why would they not welcome us?" He asked after what had seemed to be an age. "Are the elves not our allies?"

"Allies yes, but would they want the one ring in their fair city? That is highly doubtful. But the Lord and Lady of the Wood are wise, they will do what needs to be done." He gave her a confused look.

"Lord and lady?" She seemed to expect this response.

"You will find out, soon enough."

Pippin looked to his cousin who was ambling along a little to the left of him. Legolas and Aragorn were heading up the group with Gimli not far behind. The four hobbits were next, keeping close to each other for comfort, which every one of them needed right now, even if it was simply to know that there was someone else there. Boromir and Yuna were at the rear, the only two that were able to find the words for a conversation. The young Hobbit closed his eyes; it was brief, but long enough to re-live the memory. Right then he wished for so many things. He wished it had all been different. That the Balrog had taken him instead. Bit most of all, he wanted to hear the old wizard's voice again, even if it _was_ just to scold him for being the fool of a Took he was.

They were just reaching the outskirts of the woods of Lorien now. The trees' fringed borders between open land and vast forest were fast disappearing as the company hurried on with little intent on stopping until they had cleared at least another mile and were in the thick of the woodland realm. As usual, the Hobbits and Gimli were somewhat lurking behind. Yunalesca could well understand the Halfling's reluctance. One of the only people they could really look up to and trust had just died, and a blow like that was not something you merely shook off. But she knew Gimli was stronger. Or, well, he claimed to be. Although Gandalf's sudden demise would obviously be hard on him, for the sake of the rest of the fellowship, he couldn't break down.

She lightly scolded herself. Nobody needed criticism at a time like this. And yet, she seemed to have an endless supply of it. For the moment, it was all bottled up. And seeing like none of them seemed to feel like doing any real amount of talking, she would hopefully be safe. It was when they inevitably stopped that she was worried about. Then, she only prayed that she'd be able to control herself. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to think about that for a while. There were still a good few hours of sunlight and she was sure that Aragorn was fully intent on covering as much ground in that time as possible.

Yuna winced as she stepped rather sharply on a spot of ground that would best be described as a pothole. It wasn't the first time she'd done this, and every time she had, it agitated the already tender flesh around the open wound made by the infernal goblin's arrow. She was keeping pace as best she could despite this. But fatigue had long since taken her in its vice-like grip. Casually, Yuna glanced around to see if anyone had dared to notice this slight mishap, in the end deciding that none had.

Unfortunately, they hadn't stopped for a breather yet, meaning that attempting to better bandage the damaged area had been impossible, and now the thick band of cloth that bound it would jut have to make do. The strip of green sorely reminded her of the unfortunate encounter with the cave troll. She felt slightly exposed without the worn cloak, it wasn't like she had spent her entire life wrapped in one, but it's absence left her feeling a little vulnerable. This sensation was in no way appreciated.

'_Stupid Ranger._' She complained internally. The aforementioned was scouting ahead, a black beacon on the horizon. It was pitiful that her insults had deteriorated to this state, but at the moment it was all she could hope to manage. Besides, she had to let her anger and frustration out on someone, and he seemed the better target out of the rest of them.

_Guilt…_

_It haunts you… _

_Silently taunting…_

It closes in around you… 

_Your every step echoes it..._

_Cutting you off from those you love most…_

_One day you'll wake up and find yourself empty…_

_No trace of your former self left, just dead on the inside…_

The ranger knew what had just happened wasn't his fault, how could he be blamed? And yet…guilt whispered in his ear, filling every corner of his mind. He couldn't escape it. But worse, another feeling that wouldn't leave him was doubt. Doubt that he could truly lead the fellowship. That he could get Frodo and the one ring to the Mountain of Doom. That It would finally be destroyed. The very might of Sauron was against them, they had never planned to face it head on, but now a of chance passing by unnoticed was severely diminished.

Maybe they should just give up? Try and find another way? Now that Gandalf was gone, it seemed as if there was little other choice…No…that was exactly what the enemy wanted. To break their spirit, make them feel as if they were all alone. The eight remaining had to stick together, had to move forward and leave what was in the past to the past. Aragorn would have to keep strong.

The Dwarf felt numb. He had lost both his cousin and the wizard in a space of mere hours; he didn't know how exactly he should handle it. Like Aragorn, he too had lost many companions. Souls that in truth had not deserved to die, but unfortunately fate did not look upon right or wrong. Though sorrow was held in his heart he would not let it fully break through the barriers that had been carefully built there. A single leaf floated down gently in front of him. The various trees that now encompassed them were shedding with a vengeance and left his feet covered inches deep in the thick carpet of gold tinted foliage. They would carry on, to what end he did not know, but he would go with Frodo nonetheless.

It was after a couple of moments that he realised that the rest of the group had stopped a few metres back.

"Dark is almost upon us." He heard a voice ring clear in his ears. "Travelling in these woods at night is not wise, we should break for camp and continue again in the morning. Besides, we could all use a rest." You could tell by the ranger's voice that the added strain of taking lead of the group was weighing him down. Gimli turned and gradual walked over to where the others stood.

"I…I suppose that someone should gather some wood and start a fire." Said Merry, quiet and unsure of himself. Although it was a decent idea and the thought of having a cosy fire did appeal to most of them, no one was quite willing to do anything about it. Frodo and Samwise went to sit down, resting their backs against an overtly large tree. It was true that night was coming, already the sun hung low and hazy in the sky. Though the forest seemed immensely hushed for a place that contained so much life. Almost as if it too felt their pain. Finally the silence that had been present amongst the group was broken by Gimli who mumbled something about seeing a few dry twigs and ambled off. He was soon followed by Boromir who needed a moment to himself and so veered off in a slightly different direction. The Dwarf did not have to go far to find some apt kindelling and enough wood to keep a good fire burning for most of the night and after gathering these he headed back to the newly founded campsite.

The last rays of light where slowly dying away, laying wake to the darkness beyond. An attempt to get a fire going had started almost immediately after Gimli had returned and was still in progress. Aragorn however, had left this task to the others. He had wandered a little way away, just to get some time to catch his breath. He heard a small gasp come from the direction of a cluster of trees set close to the encampment. Yunalesca was sat under their bows, clutching at her right shoulder. He moved closer with some hesitation. The two held some pretty harsh feelings towards each other, he was uncertain whether they would ever really be able to resolve them. Then again, right now he had to be the better person, if only for the sake of the Fellowship. Getting closer he realised what it was she grasping. A blood-encrusted piece of green material lay idly beside her, as well as that her left hand was covered in the dark red substance.

"Yuna." He said softly as not to startle her. She looked up to him, only now seeming to realise that he had moved to where she was. "When were you hurt?" The she-elf was silent for a moment before answering, as if she was contemplating whether indeed to do so.

"In Moria, I suppose." She replied shortly. He came nearer and knelt down beside her, still a little indecisive. He could see the wound clearer now and make out fine details.

"Goblin arrow?" He questioned her again. She nodded.

"Whilst we were leaving." A pause and then. "I should have been expecting it, but I guess my guard was momentarily down." He said nothing, never having seen her in this particular state. Yuna constantly clung to her hard exterior and although he had not really spent any great deal of time with her for obvious reasons, seeing her almost exposed was not something he was unaccustomed to.

"Here." He said, reaching out his hand towards her. She gave him a confused look. "Your arm." Her face did not change.

"Its fine…I'm more than capable to handle it myself." She said defiantly.

"Look Yuna, for once just let someone help you. We have had our differences in the past, that I can not deny, but it does not have to remain so." His plea seemed to have little effect on her. "You proved yourself in the mines and although it seems I have yet to fully prove myself to you, the least we could do is try to get along. In any case, though you claim otherwise, tending to that wound will be difficult to manage with only one free hand and I have no desire to see you die due to obstinacy." There was moment of suspense before finally, slowly and falteringly she lifted her arm, resting it in his still outstretched palm.

Odd as it was, Yuna didn't completely object to complying with Aragorn's wishes. She supposed she should have but thinking about it from another point of view, she didn't have to hassle with trying and almost certainly falling to adequately bandage the injury. Though she still thought of him for the most part as a cocky child, she was sure that he was more then able to handle something so simple.

"Stay here." He said. "I'll be back." With that he stood up and walked back in the direction of the camp. Staring at the back of his head she regarded whether indeed he could have gained a greater state of maturity in the past few years. There encounter long ago had left her with a vast amount of spite for the human, she doubted that she could ever truly forgive him. But if not forgive, she just might learn to forget. It didn't take long for the said human to return with a small earthenware jar in hand. She eyed it suspiciously. Once again, he knelt by her side, opening the jar before lightly grasping her arm.

"What exactly _is_ in there?" Yuna asked cautiously.

"Something to help close the lesion." He replied, not looking up and instead dipping the tips of his fingers into the jar. When they came out they were covered in an unappealing green substance. This hardly helped her eternal cynicism and in accordance with that she tensed the muscles in her arm.

"You sure about that?" He gave her a look. "Alright, I apologise for not trusting you and place myself in your capable hands."

Dawn came, and the sun had firmly established its place in the morning sky as the company departed, making their way deeper into the woods. They marched on for the better part of the day, taking no more rest then that that was required. Little had happened the night before, no one had any real desire to talk and so most of the group had retired early. The Hobbits ambled along, scattered amongst the line of walkers. Yuna hung behind, her arm firmly patched up and, incidentally, feeling a lot better. No one spoke, save a passing comment from the Brandybuck and Took, or a mumble from the Dwarf concerning the abundance of the surrounding trees and absence of anything remotely friendly-looking. Most were still silently grieving for Gandalf. They were getting deeper into the thick of the wood now, the sunlight filtered through the canopy above, creating an eerie yellowish glow that encompassed the moss-covered roots.

"Stay close, young Hobbits" Gimli ushered Frodo forward, eyeing the area around him with distrust. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch…of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell!"

There was a snigger towards the back of the line. Gimli glared behind him, and his eyes narrowed as Yuna looked to the ground, shaking her head in amusement, the corners of her lips still curved upwards. The Dwarf chose to ignore this, and kept on with his tale. "…And are never seen again." He grunted audibly. "Well, here's _one_ Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox…" His speech was cut rather short due to the simple fact that he now had an arrow of the Galadhrim aimed directly at him. As did the majority of the Fellowship, even Yuna came face to face with a number of the Elven archers. Legolas already had his bow drawn; though with five arrows already focused on him, this would be of little use.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." Said one, stepping out. Nauseatingly blonde hair adorned his shoulders. He spoke with an air of authority and was the only one not sporting a fully drawn bow.

"Haldir, like you said, he's a _Dwarf_, that's not much of an achievement even _in_ the dark." Yuna remarked, stepping forward whilst ignoring the many finely tipped bows.

"Yunalesca." He replied tediously, "A pleasure." His voice clearly indicating otherwise. She smirked, rolling her eyes in the same instance.

With that, and a few more pleasantries, they were _politely_ escorted further into the forest.


	6. Misguided

_"…So am I still waiting,_

_For this world to stop hating?_

_Can't find a good reason,_

_For this world to believe…"_

_Sum 41 Still Waiting_

Chapter Two: Misguided

Yuna had spent the night walking along one of the various paths that weaved its way through Rivendell, trying to piece her scattered thoughts into something useful. Architecture that was all too common in this city lined every wall and christened every inch of free space that was available. Waterfalls plunged down hundreds of feet to the winding streams below that were like veins on the emerald landscape. The houses, if you could even describe them in that way, were filled with a tranquillity that was rarely found anywhere else but in the great Elven stronghold. Even though Yuna would have never admitted it, she loved this place. It felt like a home that she found nowhere else, not even in Entwood. Entering a creatively adorned balcony she found large, intricately carved yet moss-covered bench. She made her way to it, sitting down slowly as not to disturb the weathered item.

Closing her eyes, she attempted to bring herself into a state of blissful unawareness to the struggles that where going on in Middle-Earth and instead focus on the serenity that encompassed her. This however was all too soon broken by the incised ringing of a bell that summoned those invited to Elrond's auspicious council. Yuna wearily stood up, taking a last look toward one of many ivy covered statues before proceeding in the direction of the meeting place.

Yuna reached the courtyard where the various members of the free races of Middle-Earth were already discussing minor skirmishes with the Dark Lord that had taken place over the last couple of weeks. She quietly took her seat, not wishing to disturb the other members of the council by coming in late. Solemnly she surveyed the other guests.

To her right sat whom she assumed was the elusive Gandalf the Grey, she had heard of his exploits on occasion but had never seen him in the flesh.

Next to him sat a young Hobbit, Yuna had admired Hobbits from the moment she'd seen one. Even tough there were constantly tremendous evils a step away from them, they always seemed content and not to have a care in the world. This one however, had an enormous burden weighing him down, his eyes where constantly set on the ground and his face portrayed a longing for something of which she could not tell.

The next in line was Elrond himself, a dark-haired Elf on either side of him. She supposed the two held some significance in the meeting but didn't care to inquire.

Then, then there was the ranger, for once he had changed his unsightly garments, not that it made much of a difference. He held this sort of unrelenting gruffness that, to her seemed to go along with both his actions and words.

Humans took up the following four places, a young dirty-blonde standing out from the more aged members. His eyes darted around the room uncertainly, glancing around and surveying those around him.

There was a horde of dwarves glaring about the small courtyard, grunting occasionally and looking suspiciously at the large number of elves around them.

Next there was a quartet of blondes, from Mirkwood, she assumed, her last visit to that particular area had been less than pleasant. Within moments Elrond had began the retelling of the great battle that was held long ago against Mordor and how it had come to pass. Yuna had heard this tale numerous times and was in no hurry to listen to it once again. She shut her ears to the sound, all she wanted was for Elrond to tell her what he wanted her to do so she could say no and leave. Of course doing that would have been far too easy and was not in the nature of the Lord of Rivendell. So she would just have to wait till all had been said and a vague plan was formulated, merely merging with the background and went unnoticed, a useful talent she had built up over the many years. She wasn't much aware of the various things being said by those present at the council, and once again closed her mind to everything but her own thoughts until Elrond got to the point.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." Were the words that snapped her out of her reverie. The young Hobbit obediently walked slowly to the pedestal in the centre of the courtyard and placed the ring upon it. There were sharp whispers among the startled crowd as Frodo took his seat.

The Gondorian rose from his place and spoke. "I had a dream…The Eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice…" He had made his way gradually over to the pedestal, and his hand hovered over the ring. "…_Seek for the Sword that was broken: In Imladris it dwells; There shall be councils taken, Stronger than Morgul-spells…"_ He reached out to touch the ring. Gandalf leapt from his seat and his voice became menacing and powerful as he chanted the black tongue of Mordor. A shadow seemed pass over the sun, and the growl of thunder was audible overhead.

"Never before has any voice dared to utter the words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey." Said Elrond as the sky grew light once more and the shadow passed.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond. For that tongue is soon to be heard in every corner of the west." After a while, the Gondorian spoke again.

"'Tis a gift." He said, standing once more. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Let us use the weapon of the enemy against them!" _'Oh, Valar'_ Things spiralled downwards from the moment the sugestion escaped his lips. Even Yuna knew of the great evils the Ring whispered to those who carried it. To attempt to wield it would be nothing short of suicide.

Out of the corner of her eye Yuna noticed the Elf who had just reclaimed his seat staring at her. So _this_ was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. She was not impressed. His gaze remained fixed on her but she pretend not to notice. This was somewhat hard however as every muscle in her body begged to slam a fist into that pretty Elven face of his. She returned to the council, the sudden realisation of what exactly was going on only hitting her when the ever-arrogant son of Gloín brought his axe down heavily on the smooth surface of the One Ring. She felt Legolas lean in and say: "Dwarves." In a demeaning whisper only Elvish ears could hear.

"_Men._" She replied in the same dull tone, trying and succeeding to shut him up and divert his attention elsewhere. After a moment or two, Legolas resumed his original position, a look of perplexed curiosity painted on his face.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Said a Dwarf rising with his axe in hand. After taking a few steps forward he brought it down hard above the small, golden object. His attempt however, proved nothing more then a waste of time. His axe was shattered and he himself was thrown back nearly half a metre by the shear force of the blow. The Ring remained unscathed.

"The Ring, Gimli son of Gloin," Elrond started, "Can not be destroyed by any craft we here posses. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasms of Mount Doom from whence it came. One of you…must do this." There was a morbid silence.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." The ever-pessimistic Gondorian intruded once again upon the conversation. "It's black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great eye is ever watchful." He gestured to illustrate his point. "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" Legolas broke in. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" Gimli spat. "I would be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

This was not the wisest thing the unfortunate dwarf could have said, seeing as he was invariably outnumbered by the shocked elves, who at this point immediately rose to defend themselves against the verbal onslaught the armour-clad gnome was dealing out.

Yuna sighed from her place next to the anxious-looking hobbit, and cast her eyes upwards to see the blaring dispute between the free races of Middle-Earth. The Dwarves were bellowing their rather crude opinions, the men were simply standing and inserting unhelpful comments at moments when the argument seemed to be waning. The elves did nothing but stand their ground and try to look as unaffected and aloof as possible.

"I will take it!" A voice somewhere to her right tried to make itself known to the crowd. Yuna cringed as the young hobbit came forward once again and repeated his earlier statement, the majority of those present having turned to see the ring bearer. "But…I do not know the way…" There was a confused silence before Gandalf spoke to the apprehensive Frodo.

"I will help you with this burden, as long as it is yours to bear." He said slowly, looking down fondly to the Halfling.

Aragorn took a step forward, kneeling so he was at Frodo's height. "If in life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Legolas stood forward as well, stating: "And you have my bow."

Not wanting to be left out, Gimli grunted: "And my axe!" Glaring pointedly at a number to the prince's companions. Legolas gave an exasperated look, foreseeing the journey ahead with a dwarf by their side. It wasn't promising.

"If it is the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." Boromir said, staring watchfully at the golden object that lay in the centre of the pedestal.

It was then that the hobbit she'd been watching for some time sprang from his hiding place in the bushes around where the Lord of Rivendell had been sitting.

"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" He declared proudly.

"Yes, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you two even when he is invited to a secret council and you are not." Sam looked away bashfully. Two more hobbits joined the group standing in the centre of a courtyard with cries of "We're coming too!" As Elrond established the fellowship, Yuna decided to make an exit. Shaking her head slightly, she rose and walked slowly down the few steps to the path. She had barely taken a step down the worn road when she heard her name called after her. She placed her hands on her hips and turned round to face the newly-formed Fellowship slowly and deliberately. She shot Elrond a questioning look that conveyed a certain sense of frustrated boredom. "What have you to say in the matter?" He asked.

"You have my _pity_." She said, sighing deeply, the curious Fellowship looked on as she continued. "Well, well, well. What have we here? It seems that the last hope for Middle-Earth is to be placed into the hands of four little hobbits, cute as they are, I'm afraid I can't see _them_ saving the world any time soon. Next we have a ranger who couldn't find his own destiny if it hit him over the head. An Elvish ponce…oh I'm sorry, I meant _prince_. A dwarf – enough said. And, after all that, a Gondorian, a simple human with the gall to think he could control the One Ring. The best of the lot's got to be Gandalf the Grey, and even _he's_ loosing his edge." She paused and chuckled humourlessly at her audience. "Seriously, Elrond, this is a jest. Because if _these_ are the people who will supposedly destroy the One Ring and the Dark Lord, then I'll just go on ahead and tell the rest of Middle-Earth to start saying their prayers right now shall I? Do not condemn me for being truthful, I would hate for this '_Fellowship_' of yours to leave this place with false confidence. Good luck…" She turned back round. "…You'll need it." And was gone. The Fellowship remained silent,

"How dare she!" A lesser elf exclaimed once he was sure she was well and truly out of earshot. "She has no right to insult the choices of the Lord of Rivendell!"

"Silence." Elrond commanded. "She has her reasons."

A ray of light filtered down onto the straw covered floor below, tiny particles of dust dancing around in blissful unawareness of anything and everything. The air was filled with the heavy, musky sent of horses and all things associated. In one of the stalls that secluded parts of the stable from the others, Yuna stood brushing down Túlka's silvery grey mane as the beast happily munched through a bucket of oats. It was peaceful here, no one around but the horses and a stable hand who tracked in and out on occasion. She was relieved because of this, knowing that at the moment she wasn't exactly the most popular person in Imladris. Already rumours of goings on were floating into the welcoming ears of the inhabitants. Most telling of Middle-Earth's new saviours, others of the evil woman who had spitefully doomed what was to come. Once again her little habit of telling the truth had got her into trouble. Might not be the most glamorous job, but someone had to do it. So right now she was quite pleased to have four walls around her and a roof above her head.

"Its funny." Said a voice with such harmony that it instantly gave away its owner. "I guess I should be mad at you, I even suppose I should be furious. But I'm not." Yuna neither hesitated nor showed any overt recognition, she just carried on brushing.

"No, no, the Evenstar couldn't, wait I'll rephrase that, _shouldn't_ get mad. It would ruin the whole perception now, wouldn't it?" She didn't mean to be spiteful, but for some reason it had just come out. Arwen smiled in the way that showed nothing but pure radiance, something so completely effortless for her. "Okay, why are you meant to be mad at me?"

"I would have thought you'd know. As you don't seem to, I shall explain. I have been informed of your, shall we say, _display_ earlier. For the most part, I think you were almost right. Everyone wants the Fellowship to succeed, but you were the only one who dared to suggest it might not. I can't say I don't admire you for what you did, but you seem to have a habit of—"

"…Making people despise me?" She suggested all too cheerfully.

"You could say that." Arwen sighed, "All I'm saying is that you should trust Lord Elrond's decisions, if he didn't think it would succeed, he wouldn't have formed the Fellowship in the first place."

"It is not Elrond whom I doubt. It is whether or not the Fellowship themselves would be able to undertake this task." Arwen opened her mouth to speak, but Yuna carried on. "I will talk with him later on, in the meantime, do not let yourself be troubled by my words. I spoke too quickly, and may have been a little too harsh." She knew in her heart this wasn't true, but she wasn't about to tell the Evenstar she meant every word. Arwen merely nodded and left as quickly as she had arrived, leaving Yuna alone with her thoughts. '_I'll tell him tomorrow, tell him what I think of this _Fellowship_ of his._'


	7. Finale

A.N. You wanted romance? Well here it is. The first bit in the whole story (and a KISS, no less!)

__

"…And I feel the way you hold, hold me back from this,  
Chances that I've missed, now they're gone,  
Apathy is all I sense, the feeling's too intense,  
Sitting on a fence, can't decide,  
Don't frown, don't scorn, 'cos I walk a different street to you,  
You look so worn, I bet that life has got you blown,  
But it will never get to me,  
Somebody told me that I'd always have to bow,  
If that was true I would have fallen apart by now,  
The more you think, the less you act their ways,  
So can you hear this? The fake sound of progress…"

LostProphets ~ The Fake Sound of Progress

****

Chapter 27: Finale

"So…um…what are we doing again?" Firowen and Legolas sighed in unison.

"You se those pots on the top of the red-tipped poles?" Firowen began, as if speaking to a naïve child. I found myself far too tired to care. "Well, you have to try and break them without touching or moving the red poles, and without falling off."

"You also get more points if you break more targets in one hit."

"Aright. Sounds easy, just…um…be a dear and wake me up when they call my name out." I put my head on Firowen's shoulder. To hell with propriety, I could barely keep my eyes open. Definitely my human side. I let my eyelids flutter close, but could still almost hear the Elf's overdone shock. "Oh, don't be surprised, I've been eyeing your shoulder since we met," I mumbled. "So comfortable, so…"

"What happened to you last night?" The Prince inquired, obviously worried.

  
"I wasn't able to drop off, that's all." I murmured, snuggling further into Firowen's shoulder. To my dulled mind, bony though it as, his shoulder was as cosy as any feather pillow, and slowly I felt myself slipping into the world of human dreams. I just prayed I wouldn't be greeted by the haunting and thoroughly disturbing vision that had broke my sleep the night before.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

"Firowen Arminasion!" The announcer's nasal voice rang out through the assembled twenty competitors. He cringed.

"I do wish my father hadn't insisted on putting _that_ down for my name." He lifted his head which had previously rested atop Yuna's, much to the bewilderment of myself and the crowd.

"What are you going to do about _her?_" I inclined my head towards the aforementioned. He looked about as thoughtful as I was sure he could for a moment before getting the well-known glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You take her." Before I could respond, he deftly replaced his shoulder with both hands and looked at me impatiently. "Well, hurry up before I drop it." He nodded towards her limp torso. "I have to go! Come on!" He hissed. Grudgingly, I obliged and came forward, at which point he unceremoniously dropped her head on my shoulder. "Have fun when she wakes up!" And was gone.

I thought I heard a mumbled curse escape her mouth as she snuggled closer. Then, with no warning, she proceeded to slide slowly backwards. For a split second I contemplated the dire consequences of her thinking I dropped her head on the floor, against an arm preventing her from doing so. Via a stroke of genius, I chose the arm, bringing it about her back before she could slide too far and propping her upright again. It didn't strike me until much later how this would appear from any point of view, especially seeing as I neglected to remove my arm until I was forced to wake her and endure any possible wrath.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

"Yuna?" I felt someone nudging me gently. "Yuna?"

"Uh huh?" I replied, still keeping my eyes firmly shut.

"It's your turn next."

  
"Huh….?"

"If you don't get up now, you won't make it in time." He nudged again.

"Okay, Firowen, just give me a minute." I yawned. There was a slight chuckle from my living pillow. I sat upright slowly, stretching my arms out in front of me. "What's so…gah!" I stared hard at Legolas, then rubbed my eyes. '_Still there. Damn.'_ "Where's Firowen? Why was I on your shoulder instead of his?" '_Why didn't I notice them making the switch?'_

"He was called up not long ago, and we decided it would be best not to wake you. Besides, you looked far too adorable." '_Adorable? He'd been out in the sun too long._'

"Lady Yunalesca." An elf had materialised in front of me. "Your name has been called, if you do not go now, I'm afraid you'll be disqualified."

"I'm coming." I groggily got to my feet. Alright, so maybe that was a bit of an overstatement. I was halfway straight before gravity got the best of me and I ended up in exactly the same position.

"Can I be of some assistance?" Legolas inquired smugly. I glared daggers at him.

"I'm not an invalid. I can do it myself, thank you."

"If you say so," He smirked. I rolled my eyes, rocked back, pushed hard against the earth behind me, and sprung to my feet, practically colliding with the now thoroughly shocked elf that had come to fetch me. Grinning, I stared him straight in the eyes for a moment before prancing off to the starting area leaving Legolas still sat on the grassy sidelines. We were using the same forest of poles situated over the lake that we'd used previously. The only difference being that on each of the red-topped beams was placed an earthenware pot of sorts. Grasping the ladder that led to the starting line, I made my way up. All around, the crowd erupted in cheers with the occasional shout of 'nice ass, darling' or 'careful you don't break a nail' from the unmistakably human occupants of the grandstands. They, however, were soon shushed by the growing number of Yunaists in the crowd. Upon reaching the top, I stood for a moment to wave to the onlookers, though with far more confidence than the last time I'd been here. The scariest thing, however, was that half of them waved _back_. I turned back round abruptly, took a deep breath, and began the course. Almost immediately, the masses grew silent, and to me, almost ethereally so. But it did allow for a large amount of concentration.

The task was simple, and, as with previously, the first few targets were broken easily enough. The only hindrance they presented was the fact that most were low, and the problem of crouching down whilst maintaining the power to shatter the objects in one blow was, at times, difficult. Soon, however, the problem became that of reaching the targets. I could count about thirty or so altogether, and had now broken more than half. From what I could tell, the rest were situated at chest height to over a metre above my head, though if I climbed higher it could be less. I shattered the closest one with a swift kick, as always being careful not to make any contact with the pole. Though the next was atop the twenty-eight foot pole I'd had trouble with when last here. After a moment of tricky climbing, I had managed to get level with it. But there were no poles that were low enough or close enough to provide a decent platform with which to break the object on top. There was only one way. With a measure of difficulty, I managed to sit down and extend my legs until my calves were no less than five inches away from each side of the vase's surface. I gripped the pole I was sat on with my palms and took a deep breath. There was a crunch, after which I opened my eyes hardly realising I'd closed them.

There was a unanimous sigh from the audience as I carefully got to my feet and proceeded on. With about three quarters down, and no mishaps, I was on my way to getting full points. However, my entire score might have been ruined following the disposal of my next target. It was high, but that in itself was not the problem. It was the fact that there was only one other vertical beam that reached anywhere near its height, and was that still a metre away. I sighed. '_why me?_' Momentum, was what I needed. Glancing behind me, I noticed the poles for about five metres in that direction stayed generally level. With luck I might be able to gain speed to easily overcome the first beams height.

I backtracked until there were five metres between me and my target. With my eyes firmly set and my muscles ready, I ran. A mere foot before collision, I jumped, latched onto the surface of the beam, swung as hard as I could to the right, and slammed the thing atop the other pole onto oblivion. Clay shards filled the air as I began my decent, landing on the very last row of beams with half my feet teetering over the edge. I could see the water bellow me, the bank not so far beyond that, and with all my weight bearing me forward, it would not be long before I could feel it too. I could hear the whispers through the crowd, 'She's gonna fall,' some sniggered, 'I knew it.' I was paralysed, any movement meant I'd plummet. But if stayed, it was most likely the result would be the same. '_What to do, what to do. Think!'_ It was almost painful, just waiting for my demise with a couple thousand or so people gawking at me and feeling as if, had a single raindrop fallen on me, it would mean my end.

But of course, with the irony that so much of my life held, I found myself gazing straight into the eyes of none other than the Prince. His face betrayed his emotions. Surprise, probably that I'd let myself slip so easily. Though, overshadowing that completely, was a smug sense of self satisfaction. He'd won, and without even having to face me directly. '_Well, there's no way he's going to beat this bitch so easily. I'll see him humiliated yet._' I'd take my chance. I gave him the briefest smirk before gritting my teeth, pivoting backwards and praying my feet didn't slip over the edge. I felt my hands skimming wood as my feet swung over my head and with my palms I pushed off it as hard as I could. My heals touched the tops of two poles and even though I had to struggle for purchase, I was safe. As I returned vertical I noticed the almost deafening cheers of the crowd and upon gaining my balance, gave a short bow. '_I meant to do that._' 

~*~

  
"Just one." Legolas sighed. The event was over, scores were announced, and we were walking back to our respective rooms. "I was so close, and yet..."

"Face it, you win some, you lose some." I smirked. "It _was_ rather a dazzling display, though." I chuckled. "To think, an inch more to the left and you would have had it. But you just _had_ to be all showy, trying to get two in one row, what a silly little Prince."

"You mock me, my Lady." Another sigh. "But you might have lost everything. I only lost a few points."

"True. But that's the difference between you and I. I might have, but you did."

"You know, no matter what you do, you still won't be able to win this." He said, a small glimmer of satisfaction igniting in his eyes. I looked up sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, thanks to your little mishap earlier on in the tournament, you only have 395 points. While I am sitting pretty on 400." We turned another corner in the hallways ever winding course. 

  
"So? I can still beat you."

"Ah, but there's only one event left. And since I know for a fact that I'm going to win the next one, you'll still be behind." I narrowed my eyes dangerously.

"Cocky, are we?"

"Well, I _do_ have every reason to be. The next event is one that has always ensured I win."

"What is it? And why do you know before I do? Aren't they supposed to be secret?"

"Cer felt bad for 'kicking the shit out of me' as you so eloquently put it."

"Well, he really _did_ kick the--"

"He's twice my size!" I snorted.

"From what I've heard about what you get up to with Oliphaunts, that shouldn't present too much of a problem."

"What!"

"On the Pelennor. You really _are_ all some of those…_bimbos_ will talk about."

"Yourself excluded then?"

"Forgive me if I don't find obsessing over an unattainable goal _remotely_ productive." I said flatly.

"Personally, I find it fascinating. I swear, sometimes it seems like they have nothing better to do than discuss your schedule." We both stopped walking, and turned around to see a cloth-laden Gem with a pensive, matter of fact look on her cherubic face. "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't realise it was private. But while I'm here…" She rummaged around in the piles of fabric. "I was told to get this ready for you to wear at the celebration in a couple of days…" She triumphantly pulled out a long, flowing dress, with a deep colour that no matter how one looked at it, was still unmistakably…

"Yellow." I said, utterly deadpan.

"Mm hm." Gem agreed. "Buttercup, actually. Funny thing, I had a cousin called buttercup, frightfully ugly young lady, though, and that husband of hers, well, it was like the Valar put them on this earth for each other, you know? I've always said…"

"You want me to wear _yellow_?" I put all my malice for the colour in to one single Look™ in his direction.

"But…I didn't…put…that…"

"You're a really shitty liar, Mirkwood, you know that?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I thought it might…bring…out…your…eyes?"

"My eyes." I repeated, my arms folded and my voice as flat as roadkill.

"Um…yes?"

"Or maybe it's more or a _sunshine_ yellow. I had a third niece called Sunshine once. Horrible name for a child, I'm not sure how she ever coped, _very_ vindictive mother, and besides, I'd be more inclined to burn this thing than wear it, although you could argue that…" Gem spoke at us. I leaned in closer.

"The next time I see you, it'll be down on one knee."

"Well, only if you don't count tomorrow, or the day after that, because you'll probably see me then, but you know? I'm just going to carry on walking now in the hopes that you'll stop looking at me like that…" He backed away, which was the desired effect.

  
"I've been preparing a speech for you to read to him. I hope you both like it." Were my last, hope-shattering words before I realised that I was, in fact, standing directly outside my bedroom door.

~*~

"I did it!" I was certainly having an odd dream. A voice that sounded a lot like Jen's opened my door and strode through my room over to my bed. "I told my parents everything!" And shouting jubilantly. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you asleep?" And asking me strange questions.

"No, I just like to lie in bed for long periods of time in the morning." I croaked from under the duvet.

"Oh, alright, as long as I'm not waking you or anything." She sat on my bed, practically bouncing up and down."

"Told parents?" I inquired, wresting my mind from the blissful unconsciousness.

"What you said."

"I said?" She sighed understandingly.

"Before? When I told you about telling my parents about me and Cer?"

"Oh."

"Well I told them what you said. Just…in not so many words." I snapped to attention.

"You actually took my advice?" _'Oh dear Nienna,'_ "Wait. Tell me exactly what you said, every word."

"Don't worry! I just told them that I didn't care about what would happen. I love Cer too much to even _think_ about anything like that. Besides, I personally think they're being a bit over the top in any case. It's not like being half human is some kind of _disease._" '_Debatable, but true._' "And I think I finally got them to see that, and it's all thanks to you!" _'Me? I can't actually remember saying that, but…_'

"Um…you're welcome."

"Thanks! And now we're betrothed!" I did a double take.

"You're what?"

"Well, they said be that as it may, I still can't go around with him for as long as I please without marrying him. So I told him, and he asked me if I wanted to. I said yes, so he asked me to marry him, and obviously I accepted, and so now we're betrothed!"

"Um…congratulations."

"Thanks! And now I have to go and tell Narin."

"You haven't told her yet?"

"Well, technically no, but your room was closer and I thought 'why not?' because you _did_ give me a little shove in the right direction, so you have the privilege of knowing before she does. Anyway. Goodbye!" She left in a flurry of mauve skirts, and I buried my head in the pillows as I sought rest once more.

~*~

"It's too early." I moaned at Firowen. 

"It's mid-day." He said, crinkling his brow.

"I know, it's disgusting isn't it." I sighed. "How they just expect us to rush out of bed for some silly little competition. Hardly an hours sleep…"

"If you say so." He replied absentmindedly whilst practically dragging me along behind him as we made our way to the arena. 

"What _are_ we doing today that the Prince is so very 'remarkable' at?"

"An obstacle course." The elf's matter of fact tone was unmistakable.

"Oh….that sounds easy."

"I assure you it's harder than it looks."

"If you say so." I singsonged. He stopped, regarded me for a minute and then carried on. "Firowen?" 

"Um huh." 

"Is something bothering you?" I asked in as sweet a voice as I could muster.

"Not really, I'm just…ah, a bit preoccupied." He mumbled unconvincingly. "The tournament and everything."

"You know if you need to talk I'm here right." '_Wow, now I was even offering my services. This was the last time… probably…"_

"I know, it's nothing really, don't worry about."

"Fine. But the offer still stands." We entered into the arena to the deafening sound of a heaving mass of fans all cheering on their chosen favourites. From what I could tell the majority sided with either me or…well it was somewhat obvious. Half the crowd _was_ made up of women. In the middle of the stadium was set up an obstacle course of sorts. Only the entire thing seemed to run on a horizontal beam about six or thereabouts inches wide. Joy? On either side or, at times, beneath it were implements of destruction, such as ten foot blades or large spheres made out of stitched leather. I nudged Firowen slightly. "What's the big pit called?"

"The pit."

"Ah, very aptly named." Although all 'implements' were stationary at the moment it was obvious that they were meant to be put into motion, giving the trial just that touch more difficulty. "And how do you get the most points?"

"Fastest time and whether you can avoid all the pitfalls." 

"And Legolas is _incredible_ at this?"

"Pretty much."

"Pretty much? There are sordid details. Do tell."

"He's been known to slip up, yes. But you're pretty much still condemned, it's very rarely." He thought for a moment. "That is unless you do the whole thing twice as fast whilst avoiding slipping or getting hit by something even once."

"Alright."

"What? Just like that?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Do you know how hard it is to complete it? Let lone without making even the tinniest of mistakes."

"No…but I'm sure it's just a matter of timing."

"You really do amaze me at times." He chuckled.

"I know." I grinned back.

"Will the first competitor please take his position." The announcer shuffled through some papers. "Thalos?"

"We'd better leave before we're _ordered_." Firowen said, making for the way we'd entered. Before turning I noticed the same ginger haired man I'd seen at knock down making his way to the start of the course. '_Poor sod. As if going first once wasn't bad enough._' I followed Firowen out of the arena to where the other six competitors waited. The announcer came out after us and explained that we had to wait here until we were called and that one'Táraadar' was going next.

"What Oromë are you doing." I chuckled, seeing Legolas in a pose I was sure I did not want to learn the name of. 

"Stretching. And you'd be a fool if you didn't as well."

"Why ever so?" I inquired, absentmindedly tipping my head to one side.

"You'll pull a muscle again and this time I might not be so willing to help." Firowen instantly broke in. You had to give it to him. Even when side tracked he still managed to get in as many a snide remark as was possible.

"And I wasn't invited?"

"Oh, do shut up." I returned. "Fine. I'll 'stretch', but I have no intention of looking like a…a…"

"Constipated duck?" Firowen offered.

"--Thank you -- while I'm at."

"And what does an obvious _master_ such as yourself advise?" 

"Mistress, Legolas. It's _Mistress_." The Prince gave him a withering look, after which Firowen promptly backed off.

"Just my own five minute routine."

"And what might that be?"

"Oh, just standing into bridge, hold, into walkover into back handspring into handstand, hold, into forward handspring, hold down to split, hold, into side split, hold, into split handstand hold, into forward roll and you're done!" I smiled.

"…Oh ."

"Want a demonstration?"

"Oh, please, Lady Yuna, _please_!" Firowen hopped up and down, doing a frighteningly good impression of Valandil's younger sister. I stared dumbstruck at him. "Sorry, your fans weren't here so I just assumed…"

"Next time you feel the need, _don't_." I instructed. "Okay, I need a bit of room." I said, walking off a short way from the arena walls. What followed was at times a blur of legs and hair apart from those rare moments when I held position or such for a few minutes. Mid handstand I noticed my top gently slipping it's way down my torso. For a moment I contemplated breaking the routine to pull it back up but I figured I could do so without having to. I carefully leaned all my weight onto one hand before lifting the other up and yanking the material from a few centimetres above my breasts back up to my hips. 

"That was really quite…good. Well executed." He sniffed. "I thought you were just trying to wind me up when you said all of it." 

"Not everything is about you, dear Prince." I returned.

"Will Firowen Arminasion please step forward." The announcer called, peering out from the entrance to the stadium. The elf sighed theatrically. 

"I bid you a found farewell, my ladies." He said before scampering off. There was a mass of cheers as he entered the stadium, obviously having fans of his own. 

"Oh, Mirkwood, I forgot one thing."

"What?"

"The repeat part."

~*~

My name was called, there was a grand cheer from the crowd, which seemed to have doubled in size since the day before. I walked up to the painted line marking the start of the course, and looked.

"Whenever you're ready, my lady." A timekeeper said. "You are timed for how long it takes you to get from one red line to the other. The moment you cross this line, the event begins." I nodded my understanding as he called for the men operating the 'implements' to begin.

I stared at the course. It was a long, straight road six inches wide suspended two metres above the ground comprising of firstly large, leather covered balls which I doubted I could grab onto let alone fit my arms around. To make things just that little bit harder, they swung alternately from side to side, obviously intended to knock you off.

Secondly, there were two vertical, troll-sized boards, which slammed together, not leaving much to the imagination as to what the consequences of being caught in the middle would be. Then there was the same thing, only horizontal, and leaving a rather small space to get through in mid-air. That looked like fun.

Afterwards, two huge pillars of wood turned towards the competitor, on many spires dangled two metre tall bags of flour. With tiny holes in them. Any contact with them would result in immediate coverage of the guilty limb with flour. And of course, points were deducted if you happened to do so.

Then, there was the ominous-sounding 'pit.' A dirty great big hole in the plank with seemingly no way to get across. There was a great manner of grotesque substances within, such as last week's porridge mixed with old slop water and leftovers that had been fermenting for months now. The stench was such that there was a ring about four metres around where no spectators stood, and coincidentally enough, no grass grew.

Then, there was a jungle of rolling logs, the plank was abandoned to watch the competitor attempt to traverse the sea of alternately revolving trunks, some of which were in mid air suspended by the frame at the sides.

Then, there were five bars, two metres above the plank, which wasn't actually there. Each of them was a metre apart, and there were a frighteningly large number of spectators crammed into the space underneath. That alone was enough to spur me not to fall off.

The grand finale was a forest of blades, falling in canon one after the other on to the plank, which had now made a re-appearance.

I was aware of the timekeeper raising his eyebrows at me meaningfully. I ignored him. It was a little harder to ignore the shouts of 'she's lost her nerve' and 'What's the matter darlin'? Gone all shy?' Oh how I loathed those humans. I scanned over the course a final time. I saw a gap through the balls, a way through the boards, the timing spinning the flourbags, a way over the 'pit', through the logs, across the monkey bars, and a gap in the thick of the blades. It was all a matter of timing. And time, was something I had plenty of. What did I care if the timekeeper shot me dirty looks because I took up his precious time? The only person left after me was the Prince, and he could wait into the night for all that I cared. I observed the twisting and turnings of the perilous road to victory for a while longer before I had it all worked out in my head.

I hadn't crossed the line yet, and there was a chorus of shouts when I turned around to walk back the way I came. The timekeeper looked -- what was the word? -- flabbergasted for a moment. The small moment before I skidded around and sprinted to the line. The way I figured it, there was only one way I was going to beat Legolas and it didn't involve pausing or caution. I held my breath as I cartwheeled through the six or so large, fast moving balls and did a forward hand spring past the first set of boards. Without stopping to think I dive rolled through the second set, an instant before they crashed together. '_That was easy enough._' With a forward roll, I avoided the first pillar, a sack of flour missing my head by centimetres, following which I split my legs and swung them up over my head, doing a walkover in the split-second window that no perilous bags swung over my route. My momentum still flowing I took a deep breath and dashed the two metre gap ahead of the pit. I pushed off the beam at the very last second before it disintegrated into nothingness, trying to jump as high I could before flipping mid- air and landing with somewhat disarray in a handstand. Not what I'd meant to do but hopefully it wouldn't matter. 

The odour seeping out from the 'pit' practically made my eyes water as I stood back up and clutched the nearest log that was suspended above the rest. I cartwheeled over it, seeing the other logs below me, all spinning in opposite directions, and causing the whiff of saw dust to mingle in with the various others. My feet touched down on the only other suspended log and I fought to return vertical whilst stretching over to where the first of the monkey bars was situated. There was no time to breathe. Though with the stench, that wasn't much of an option in any case. I grabbed the first bar, rocked back once and swung my legs onto the next. With my knees secure I swayed down and reached up for the next, repeating the process until I found myself back on the somewhat reassuring surface of the six inch beam. '_Wait…that wasn't…it couldn't have been. It was…_' Mingled in with the other dozen or so spectators positioned below the bars had been a familiar, if not slightly crazed, face. Valandil's.

I managed a cringe before sprinting the distance from where I had landed to where the five blades waited, ready to turn anything that dared pass them into mince meat. And yet, as each closed behind me whilst I did two forward flips to complete the course, they really didn't seem as menacing as they had standing in front of them. And that was it. I did what I'd meant to do, all that was left was a spectacular finish. I hadn't stopped for a moment, fearing that if I did I'd end up losing my balance, however hard that might be. So speed wasn't a problem leading into the cartwheel and then backflip with one twist that ended my, well for lack of a better word, performance. 

I stood perfectly straight, arms held high above my head, my chest heaving as I tried to regain my breath. All around the crowd were already in the throws of a standing ovation, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the time keeper talking hurriedly with the announcer. The latter motioned for the people to sit back down, but they were having none of it and the noise that their cheers produced was almost deafening. I couldn't help but smile before giving a short bow and a wave to the spectators. It was hard even for me to believe that I'd pulled off a stunt like that and from the reaction of those watching it was obvious that few had ever done anything quite the same. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Please, quieten down so we can announce the time." The announcer pleaded. I turned my head, seeing him throw an imploring look in the King's direction. Thranduil rose from his seat and beckoned his people into silence. The announcer sighed relieved before drawing in breath. "It is my pleasure to announce that once again the Lady Yunalesca has broken the old course record. Where before the record was held by Prince Legolas at one minute, it has now been reduced to the astounding time of forty seconds." '_That's…pretty amazing._' I grinned. '_ Legolas can eat my proverbial dust._'

I noticed the Prince entering the arena for his attempt of the course. I skipped up to him, blocking his advance. 

"I--" I started to sing but was rudely interrupted.

"Don't even start." He walked past me. I bit my tongue and carried on, but couldn't fully resist the temptation. 

"I BEAT YOU!" I shouted as loud as I could above the roar of the crowd. I saw his shoulders drop for the briefest of moments before he took his place at the starting line. And even though I knew my time was practically impossible to surpass, I still felt a little pang of fear that even so, somehow he'd manage to do it. 

~*~

I rapped on his door before entering a few seconds later when there was no answer.

  
"Legolas?" The abnormally large room was in a state of disarray. Clothes were strewn randomly about the place, on the four poster bed, the floor, and on top of a cage housing a square foot of hairy, spindly, and rather ferocious-looking--

"Spider!" I shrieked, jumping a foot in the air. I had idly strolled to the centre of the room, and was now frozen in place. I was still screaming, an unnatural sound coming from me, when I got a grip, took a step backwards, got a shaky grip on my knife, and brought it above my head.

"Wait! What are you doing!" Legolas appeared, presumably from the balcony, and took in the scene, just grabbing my wrist before I did anything.

  
"Spider!" I yelled, using all the vocabulary available to me at this point. Making use of Legolas as a human shield, I somehow manoeuvred him between me and the creature, digging my nails into his -- I only now noticed -- bare shoulders. "Kill it!" I screeched imploringly, still shaking.

"What?" I was fixated with the horrid little ball of fur and legs, and almost had a stroke when it moved. The multitude of eyes stared unblinkingly at me, venomous fangs at the ready.

"KILL IT!" I yelled, pushing him in its general direction and taking cover behind a post of the bed. He looked at me as if I was insane. Justified, really, but I was desperate at this point. Nothing should have that many legs._ Nothing. "Please?"_ I whimpered. He leant down to retrieve a white cloth and drew it over the metal cage. I shrunk back behind the post, holding on to it for dear life.

"Yuna, calm down." He said soothingly, walking over and prying my hands off the post.

"Butit'sallbigandnastyandhairyandbigand…"

"Yes, yes, it's alright. Look, you can't even see it now." He said in a soft tone as he enveloped me in a hug.

"Kill it." I begged, one last time, not even caring that I was snuggling into his bare chest.

"He's my pet." He said, by way of explanation.

"Your _pet?_ Your _pet_ is a man-eating arachnid?"

"Um. Yes."

"That's…odd."

"I think he's cute."

  
"_Cute?!_ The Spider is one of the ugliest creatures in Arda!" I argued.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well look at it. I've always said that _nothing should have that many legs!_ And the really nasty ones all have really tiny bodies and long legs, or with really huge, fat bodies and really short, stubby legs. And the ones that are just brown, or the ones that have all different colours on them, the poisonous ones and the ones that are just plain ugly, and the really tiny ones that breed like hobbits and are everywhere within a month if you don't kill it as soon as you see it, and…"

"So basically all of them?"

"Well…yes…but think about it! Some of them eat each other! And I heard there's one breed where the female kills and eats her mate after, well, you know, and Valar, how can you stand to touch that thing?"

"Well, quite easily actually, would you like a demonstration?"

"NO!" I became even more compact, and as a repercussion his arms became even tighter around me.

"Really, Olwë's quite harmless, he's been drained of any venom he has, and he hasn't bitten me for at least a week now."

"Olwë!? _Olwë?!_ You gave it a name!?"

"Um…yes…"

"Isn't that some Elvish lord or something?"

"Um…maybe…" There followed a silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable. "So why did you come here?" I suddenly remembered myself and backed out of his arms.

"Just to remind you that you still have a speech to learn for tomorrow." He cocked his head.

"You really think you're going to win, don't you?"

  
"I have every cause to."

"With all due respect, I've never failed to win the next round since the first time I snagged the trophy.

"With all due respect, screw you, Mirkwood, and prepare to lose. At least one of the Valar must hold me in high regard -- I haven't died yet -- so I'll just call upon their abounding grace to grant me victory."

"A miracle? You'll need it."

"I shall say no more," I began as I made for the door, "Just that you shall firstly, speak of what has transpired to no one, and secondly, remember that there is no shame in losing, just humiliation." And with that I was gone, hearing him draw breath for a speedy retort then abandoning it as the door closed behind me.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

"Will the five final competitors please make their way to their starting areas. I repeat, will the Lady Yunalesca _please_ make her way to her allocated starting area!" The announcer's voice beckoned. He was already there, though. He sat leaning against the end of a wall of hedge, his eyes passing over the crowd. She took a tentative few steps forwards, and nearly collided with a man coming from the right. She looked up to see a dark-haired human with piercing chestnut eyes and an expressionless face.

"Oh, forgive me, I did not see you." She apologised at once, the image of politeness. He gave a quiet humph and walked on, leaving her to wonder as to his identity as he took up his place as one of the finalists.

She looked back at the elf she was headed towards, a lump rising in her throat as she realised he was now looking at her. There was nothing for it now, she told herself as she strode purposefully over to him. He rose to his feet and grinned as she approached, his rakish smile putting her at ease somewhat.

"Narin! To what do I owe the honour?" He asked, his head cocking to one side.

"Well, I just came to, um…" Her gaze travelled over to the random runner leaning against the opposite wall of hedge, a long wooden pole with a blue flag in one hand. Firowen stared meaningfully at him. After a moment or so of not getting the hint, he moved away a good few metres, with his eyes firmly set in the opposite direction. "Just came to…wish you good luck, and, I, um…" '_Oh to hell with it._' Closing the distance between them in a single stride, and leaning up on her tiptoes, she planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Without even looking to see his reaction, she twirled around and made to leave as soon as was physically possible.

But he seemed to have other plans. Reaching out, his hand caught her wrist, tugged her back and spun her around to face him. Resting one hand on her flushed cheek, before leaning in to brush his lips over hers in the barest of touches. When she made no kind of protest, he gently pressed his lips to hers, easing her mouth open. His tongue tenderly caressed the surface of her lips before he was forced to pull back, all too soon for Narin's liking.

"Um…well…yes…that's done, um…good luck…" She mumbled, trailing off as she turned around and headed back to the royal box, unable to keep the broad smile off her face. Firowen grinned lopsidedly and shook his head, turning back to face the pathway before him as the announcer counted down the seconds Lady Yuna had to get her arse over to her starting area.

~*~ End Interlude ~*~

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted as I ran to my starting area, pulling on a slipper as I hopped along, managing a quick wave to the crowd who erupted as I finally came into the makeshift arena where there was planted a giant hedge maze. In the centre of which, was a stone pedestal holding the trophy, a rather tacky golden chalice, or so I had been told by the long running owner of which. Well, not today. The announcer gave me a withering look which I returned with a dashing smile as I greeted the bearer of my flag, bright crimson in colour. "Hey there. Try and keep up, will you? Or else I _will_ be forced to break your kneecaps." He paled somewhat, obviously hoping the rumours circulating about my colourful life were purely rumours. "Just joking. Well, _you hope_." There was barely seconds left 'til the round started. As mine and Legolas' scores were equal at the top of the scoreboard, we would be starting first. Then Firowen, then the two Humans, the dark-haired Man, and the rogue with the hilarious ginger dreadlocks. Whoever got to the centre fast enough through the maze would be the winner of the tournament. We each had different starting areas, one at each of the circular maze's five identical segments. As well as that, men who ran behind us with different coloured standards to show the crowd our position.

"Prince Legolas and Lady Yunalesca in joint first place, take positions!" The crowd counted down with him until the sound of a horn rang out. My feet knew the sound, and began running unbidden, the flag-bearer hurrying after me.

"You won't win, Mirkwood!" I shouted out as I paused for a split second to navigate my way around a corner, having no idea where I was going but letting my feet lead the way. "Why you're even trying, I don't know!"

"Tough talk!" He shouted back, I could just hear his voice from the other side of the maze. "But this is my backyard, not yours!" Oh, he was going to die. I spurred myself onwards, flying past the intersections and dead ends of the maze, smelling victory. I was dimly aware of three more horns sounding, signalling the start of the course for the others, but I cared not. As far as I knew, Legolas and I were the only ones left in the competition. I felt the blood pounding in my ears, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the soft earth against my thundering footfalls.

And then I saw it. The final turning into the clearing in the centre. I skidded around it, and saw Legolas in the exact same phase of movement. I stopped just as he did. We regarded each other for the short time it took for our flag-bearers to catch up to us, before breaking into a full-out sprint to the pedestal. This was it. We each drew ever closer to the prize. Valar, but he was fast. The matter of seconds it took for both of us to reach the centre passed like hours as we closed the small gulf between us. Then I did it. I grabbed one handle at my end of the chalice and pulled. Only to find it stuck on something I identified as Legolas gripping the other end.

  
"Bugger off, Blondie. It's _mine_!" I yelled, pulling it harder and digging my heels in. The crowd had gone silent from the time both our flags insisted we won.

"It was never yours. Just give it back to its rightful owner and let go." He implored.

"I think you'll find that I saw it first."

"No, I believe I did."

"_I_ did!" I leaned closer.

"No, _I_ did!" He followed suite.

"Is this a draw, then?" Asked Legolas' flag bearer. His was green. Typical.

"No!" We both shouted at the same time, turning our confusion into rage, and our rage onto him.

"Then what is it?" Mine asked. "Only this has never happened before, and I'm sure it'll count as a draw. We'll have to check the rule books of course, but it'll be in there somewhere." Legolas and I glared at each other.

"I demand a rematch." I said.

"Not if I demand one first." He said.

"Too late, I've already said it!" I retorted, throwing all my intelligence into a small child's argument.

"How about we all leave and let the King decide?" Legolas' flag said.

"Oh that's a _stupendous_ idea, isn't it?" I fought. "Go and see the _King_ and wait for him to name his SON as the victor!"

"We'll look in the rule book!" Legolas assured me. I sighed exasperatedly.

"_Fine_."

Our standards, Legolas, my trophy and I walked out of the hedge via his starting area, to the roar of excitement, horror and finally confusion of the crowd assembled.  
  
"What is this?" Inquired the announcer in his most impressive announcer voice, eyeing the trophy held up by Legolas and I on our respective sides.

"I won." We said at the same instant.

"They both grabbed the trophy at exactly the same time." Said my treacherous standard-holder. I saw the cogwheels click in the announcer's mind before he came to a conclusion. And not a very good one at that.

"We must ask the King!" He turned and in one swift movement bowed to Thranduil, whom stood on the dais waiting to announce the champion. "My liege, we have a matter which requires your judgement." _'He wants a promotion._' Legolas pulled my trophy along with him, so I had no choice but to follow as he approached his father. A random plebeian scurried up carrying a thick, musty, leather-bound volume. He placed it down on the pedestal another random plebeian brought up, opened it somewhere towards the end, and scurried right back off. We came before the King, Legolas bowed quickly, and elbowed me in the ribs to make me follow suite.

"In the event that a draw is called, the victor shall be the competitor whom started last." Thranduil looked up. "And as that was neither of you, we shall merely have to make use of the other tie-breaker that we haven't needed for…well…as far as I'm aware, ever."

"Which is…?" I asked. To hell with Legolas, I was getting impatient. My trophy was getting scuffed, and I wanted to know what I would have to do to get my name on it. A part of me wondered where the intense possessiveness over my trophy came from, but the majority didn't care, and I held on tighter as the King announced the twelfth and final event.

****

A.N. Okay so the kiss wasn't _quite_ what some of you were expecting, but that will come soon (read: ten or so chapters). Anyway, all you Narin and Firowen fans should be happy. 

Um…

Review. Please?

Reviews:

Sparrowsnest: Yeah, we were just contemplating that. We think it adds a lot of background though. You don't even HAVE to read all of the LOTR bits, it just makes things a lot easier to understand. And besides, it's a refreshing change from some red-golden haired, purple-eyed hourglass (who is of course, the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (excuse me while I gag)) who gets in his pants within the second chapter (the first being a long, squeefull A.N).

Elrohir lover: Elrohir rocks, the sexy b-hoe. We still can't get over the fact that not only are they the sons of Elrond (Smith = Hott), the brothers of the Evenstar (pretty as hell (well, in the book, anyway)), ELVES and honorary rangers, let alone TWINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry. We love LP too, Chester one foot away in concert is DEFINITELY a good thing…

Michelle: Here's at least ten minutes of distraction for you, then, hun. And you still don't know who wins the tournament, but you will by next chapter. Also, a whole bunch of scandal, dances and great big hints of *cough*romance*cough* await. Hell, as if the kiss in this one wasn't enough for you vultures…

Elven wood: Shortest review _ever_! Hey, thanks.

Pepsibob: Firowen's EVERYBODY'S fave. And he gets a bit of tongue action in this one, so be happy.

Sylvia Viridian: As for the modern expressions, (Rai: well, _I_ said we should put them in…) Tolkien often refers to things like trains, rockets and such, and we didn't really think anyone would care, but we are now mistaken. Thanks. No, just kidding, we luv you all, and of course, constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome. The awful Mary-Sue princess will be dealt with accordingly, but we've tried to make her likeable (as far as you can like someone that perfect), and not just some outright bitch who would have no hope of getting Legolas to consider marriage.

Illona: What is with you people and posting up our entire storyline on the review board! Okay, it may be obvious, but just let it play out.

Arcamenel: Re-using an old and favourite line to strange reviewers: 'hun, you're scary, I mean, we're scary, but you're _scary_.' Thank you for the longest and probably most helpful review we've ever got. It was weird, we were just talking about the same thing when we read it, and don't worry, it'll be believable. Or, as much as it can be, in any case. With so much back story and detail to the world of Arda, it's almost impossible to make something as large as what we're planning fit in perfectly, but we're still going to try. As you said, we worked out the fic around two years ago, and its only recently that this thing has started sounding in any way close to happening, as we never even thought we'd get this far. But we're here now, and have every intention of writing the most plausible impossible Mary-Sue that has been seen in a long time. Thanks for your time, and let us know what you think as the fic goes on.

Seremela: Don't worry! The romance is just around the corner with a great big chainsaw waiting to take everyone by surprise! We also think _everyone_ knows a Firowen somewhere in their lives, perhaps an uncle, or a dear friend, it matters not. Keep up the input. ;)

Melia: Fruitin'? That's so sweet! I (Rai) once got three e-mails sent to my account from Xing (ff.net admin) warning me about keeping my language in reviews to a strictly G rating. I replied that I was English, and did not use the same rating system, so how could I possibly know what G meant? I was, um, kicked off shortly afterwards…so it's probably a good idea to say fruitin'. That word's so cool, I may have to steal it.


	8. Alpha

(First posted on 12-14-02 on It gets better later on. Trust us)

A.N The first thing that we must come to terms with is the fact that this fic has been written three times because it kept getting wiped from the disk! We have to explain that if something has been written once it is hard to put your very all into it once again (let alone the third time round) but we have tried. And after reading this fic over many times, we can tell you that it does get a lot, LOT better. Just persevere…

Disclaimer for whole (got that?) fic: We are making no money from this (damn), have no intention of infringing on any ancient copyright laws, and are aware, as we're sure you are, that all this stuff belongs to Mr Tolkien.

P.S. '_insert text here'_ is thought, and "_insert text here"_ is another language.

_"…So close no matter how far  
couldn't be much more from the heart  
forever trusting who we are  
and nothing else matters…"_

_Metallica__ Nothing Else Matters_

Chapter One – Alpha

A chilling wind skimmed across the ground, picking up the crisp autumn leaves that had settled on the forest floor. It shook the trees and created swarming dust devils that incorporated a thousand different shades of burgundy, fading green and yellow. The once glorious canopy of trees that clustered the sky had been reduced to mere skeletons in the icy expanse that was branching upon winter.

The forward horizon was filled with heavy clouds that threatened to break and set forth a torrent at any moment which would only add to the mud that already lay inches deep on the frozen ground. Few sounds broke through the dampening silence that covered the area for miles around. A bird chirping on a branch somewhere far off into the distance. The continual scraping of branches against one another as they blew in the wind. And the heavy footfalls of a mare that plodded along one of the rarely used tracks.

She carried on, not with great speed, but with a determined steadiness that meant her rider would reach their destination as soon as they intended, and not before. Puffs of hot breath escaped the beast's nostrils as she walked along, the mare's silvery grey coat shimmering in what was left of the afternoon sun. The rider she bore upon her back sat slumped in the saddle, whatever features they had concealed by a misty green cloak, the only part visible being their gloved hands that held the reigns in a loose grip. A cloud of warm air escaped the hood as the rider sighed, still unmoving.

'_Why did I even bother to come…_' was one of the many thoughts that clamoured for attention in the rider's troubled mind. '_It's not like they need me, or even _want_ me for that matter._ _What's the point of me travelling all this way just to deliver a simple message?'_ The mare snorted as if to agree.

Tillén twanged his bow absentmindedly as he sat, perched, waiting for anything to come by. Being one of the many soldiers that guarded the surrounding forestry of Imladris was possibly one of the most tedious jobs under the sun. He was a young elf, with no more than five hundred years to his name. He'd joined the guard of Rivendell in hope of some sort of action. But few came to Rivendell via this muddy and forgotten track, and even if they did, it was rarely to invade.

The odd Orc sometimes lost its way and drifted through the borders of the last homely house. That was the most excitement he'd had in the past ten years. Although, with the strange goings-on in Mordor, who was to say what the future held? He kept on this train of thought for about a minute before something snapped him out of his reverie. Hooves.

He crept into a suitable spot where he was reasonably concealed, and listened intently to the approaching beast. It was a large breed, obviously a human's; no elf would risk such a heavy Warmblood. Even if they did, it would probably be carrying two or three people. As it got closer, he could make out the solitary slumped figure cloaked in green that sat atop the mare. She was walking along at a steady pace, not in any hurry to go anywhere. There was a large clearing just in front of him; he would stop the intruder there.

The horse trotted onwards, showing no intention to stop or slow down, as it reached the centre of the clearing, Tillén opened his mouth to make his presence known, but the rider spoke first.

"_Halt, Túlka._" Came the command from under the hood. The mare obediently ground to a halt. The hood looked straight at the soldier concealed in the undergrowth.

"I know you're there. I've been aware of your presence for some time now. Just make it less embarrassing for yourself and come out." Tillén drew his bow before obediently stepping out into the open.

"Who are you?" He demanded, "State your name and business here in Rivendell." He finished, regaining some of his authority. Although he couldn't see the rider's face under the hood, he was sure it was looking straight at him.

"I assure you, I mean no harm to Rivendell or its few inhabitants, I simply wish to speak with Lord Elrond." Said the voice. It was deep, not overly manly, but it only left the soldier feeling more confused.

"I'm afraid I can not let you pass before you remove your hood and tell me who indeed you are." He instantly regretted the fact that his tone had been tinged with arrogance. Then again, it washis _duty_ to guard here, was he going to let some defiant stranger petrify him? The lone figure sighed giving him the impression that if they complied, it was for their purpose alone. Finally, the rider brought a slender hand up to the hood, pushing it back with one swift movement. Tillén was certainly surprised, but did his best not to show it.

Three things struck him at once. The first was the simple fact that the rider was female, although he had suspected this owing to her voice and posture. The second, the odd silver-grey colour of her hair that at the moment was tied into a bun and secured with a thick leather strap, his first thought was that she must be one of the Noldor or at the very least one of the Galadhrim. For they were the Elves best known for their moonlight-coloured hair. The third was the fading scar that began mid-forehead, and ended just below her right cheekbone.

"My name is Yuna, if you must know." She said flatly, not taking her eyes off him. She wasn't _un_attractive, he decided, but only in the way that all elves were beautiful, compared to them, she had a rather plain face. It was then that a fourth thing struck him, apart from the slight points on the tips of her ears and, he surmised, some degree of height, there was nothing about her to suggest she was Elvish. He got the sinking feeling that she was in charge of the whole situation, and no matter what he said, she would be in Rivendell within the hour. He made a swift decision that he assured himself would benefit him in the long run.

"Proceed." Was the only thing his suddenly parched mouth could relay. Besides, he thought to himself, if she did indeed prove to be a threat, then the guards posted inside Rivendell would be more than equipped to handle her.

"Thank you my good man." She said with a thin smile before reigning her horse. "I will be sure to inform Lord Elrond of your most…_ample_ service."

It was the constant barrage of names and old acquaintances that had brought Aragorn to search for a place of solitude. He had found it on a balcony that over looked Rivendell's main courtyard. Guests from every corner of Middle-Earth had been arriving for the past few days, none of them too anxious to hear of the news that would be put forth at the council the next day.

He recognised most of the visitors from dealings in the past. Whether or not they recognised him was beside the point. He sighed; the tranquillity of the Elven stronghold had always been a friend to him in times of tension. Closing his eyes for a moment he listened, not to the sound of various races which tended to have a superior quality of noise, more commonly know as the Dwarves, but to the small things. He opened them briefly after a few moments. Just in time to see a grey horse enter through the main arch that lead to the South road away from Rivendell.

The rider on its back was fully covered, making it nearly impossible for him to make out details as to their appearance. After the rider had lightly dismounted, the horse, without any assistance trotted off in the direction of the stables, as Elvish horses are wont, drawn by the fresh smell of hay and oats. This left the rider alone in the centre of the uninhabited courtyard. With some endeavour they strode forward to the main entrance. A moment before entering however, they paused and with a quick, precise motion, looked up.

Locking eyes with the person, Aragorn felt the slightest hint of recognition in their hooded gaze. Then they were gone, inside the main building. He felt a slight chill down his back, a thing that definitely did not happen on a regular basis. A certainty came to him. That person knew him. He didn't know why, how, or where from, but he was determined to find out.

The sun was setting rapidly, a signal that ensured that winter was firmly on its way. In a way this worried Elrond Pheredil, who was sat behind the hardwood desk that took up a portion of the study that was restricted to being his alone. It wasn't so much anything that the season brought with it, it just meant that his time in this place was growing short. He wondered if he should stay to see what fate was in store for his home. The decisions that would be made on the following morning were of the utmost importance to every life in Middle-Earth. The fact that he would be leading the talks did nothing to release the strain that had already been lain upon him. Every ounce of him wished that the ring had been destroyed those three thousand years before, but no magic he knew of was powerful enough to turn back the hands of time, neither would he be ignorant enough to meddle with such a force.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the large elm door leading in. He took a brief moment to ready himself before returning to his surroundings.

"Enter" He beckoned. The door swung forward with ease, Yuna striding in without hesitation. "Ah, Lady Yunalesca." He said in a friendly manner. "Please take a seat." She looked to the small, sturdy chair that was placed a few inches in front of Elrond's desk then walked forward, removing her hood as she sat down stiffly.

"I don't care for titles, Lord Elrond." She said, neither face nor tone betraying any unwanted emotions. "But of course you were aware of that."

"I see you haven't changed." He said rather more sternly.

"I suppose not." She replied blankly.

"Well then, let us get on. I'm sure that we would both enjoy reminiscing on the past, but this is neither the time nor the place. What word do you bring from the Ents?" Yuna took a breath before answering; no matter how dire the subject; she would not be rushed.

"They say that although they understand the situation, they can not help you at this time." Elrond remained silent, steepling his hands in thought. "I am sure you are well aware of this already, but there is trouble in Isengard. Saruman has betrayed us, and he has already begun to build an army for the Dark Lord. We have little time left. Already there have been small attacks on the lower borders of Fangorn. I am aware of how selfish it may seem, but we have problems of our own. Although The Ents can partially defend themselves, they are not famous for their abilities in battle against the creatures that now inhabit Isengard and a large wave of attacks could cause us serious damage." She paused, sighing before she continued. "_Amin__ hiraetha_" She finished gravely.

"Even though I had hoped against it, I assumed this was the response I would meet." He said at length. "There is, however, another question I would ask of you. A favour, if you will." Yuna nodded her consent for him to continue. "Join us at the council tomorrow."

"Lord Elrond, if you assumed that I would willingly take the place of the Ents at your council, then I solemnly assure you, you are mistaken. Now, if that is all you require of me, I will take my leave." With this she rose, making an all too swift path towards the door.

"Yuna." He said, a moment before she disappeared into the corridor. She slowed to a halt. For all her arrogance, she still respected the Lord of Rivendell. "You have misunderstood my intentions. I believe that you would be a valued member of the discussion. I want you for your presence alone, not the Ents'. So I must ask you again, will you join us?" She tightened her grip on the door handle, staring at the rays of light that shone through the keyhole beneath it.

"I will…think about it. I know what it is you're planning, and you can count me out. If I choose to go tomorrow, it will only be so I can better assess the situation, not for anything nor any_one_ else."

Yuna stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind her. She had no desire to think of what had just been said, and was not willing to face it until she thought she had to. It didn't occur to her until a few seconds later when she saw a confused, dark-haired human walking hurriedly away, that she'd left her hood down. Something she rarely did in case she was recognised. She was not always a welcome visitor.

"Leaving so soon, Aragorn?" She cooed. He stopped in his tracks. "Or Strider, Estel, Dúnedain, Elessar or whatever it is you're calling yourself these days." The ranger turned around slowly to meet her piercing gaze. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about me already." The edges of her mouth gradually curled upwards. "Because I certainly have not forgotten about you." She pushed back the loose strands of hair that covered the angry scar that adorned the right side of her face in an idle gesture.

"Lady Yunalesca." He said icily. "A pleasure." With this, he turned and strode off. Yuna smiled to herself slightly, before turning in the opposite direction and heading to her temporary quarters.

A.N. We are total review whores. Feedback is the only reward a writer gets, so be kind and tell us what you think.


	9. Hunter

_"…For this queen you think you own  
Wants to be a hunter again,  
Wants to see the world alone again  
To take a chance on life again, so let me go…" _

_Dido Hunter_

Chapter Three: Hunter

'_Not a word, not a breath. Or I know he'll find me._'

A lone figure moved between the small patch of forest that stood out like a sore thumb on the rolling green planes. The person in question was slightly dishevelled, and possessed the airs of someone worn with travel, yet still ready for an impending fight. This was not the first time Aragorn had briefly left the group to retrace their steps. The notion that someone was following the fellowship kept knawing at his conscience, only ever giving him a moment's peace when he'd searched the surrounding area for any signs of an unseen enemy. He studied the impressible earth in front of him, tracks that could only be made by creatures with tiny feet criss-crossed the ground. Apart from this it was altogether dull and commonplace, almost too normal for it to be real.

He sighed, not with relief but with frustration. In the back of his mind he was desperate to find something, it didn't have to be much, just enough to prove his theory. Then, when he was about to give up all hope of finding anything in the god-forsaken patch of trees, he heard a small noise that sounded almost like the croak of a frog. Quick as lightning, his hand was upon the hilt of his sword. He scanned the foliage around making out the rough shape of a black object. It turned to face him with a caw, hopping a few inches from its original perch. He nearly kicked himself, it was a mere raven. It's eyes swivelled to look at him for a moment before it ambled to an adjacent branch and finally took off, flying until it was only a grey speck on the horizon. That was it, he'd had enough.

Unbeknownst to the ranger, Yuna clung to the branch of an ancient oak. It swayed gently as the breeze tickled its leaves into life, making it all the more difficult for her to remain motionless. She tightened her grip around the crumbling bark as another gust of wind shook the tree once again. Something she knew to the core however was not to move a muscle. A mere slip of her hand and she would be caught out. All Yuna could do was wait, fortunately that was something she was good at.

**_Two weeks beforehand_**

Elrond felt a slim hand being placed upon his shoulder. He remained in the courtyard, unmoving.

"They will be fine." Said Arwen, her own voice somewhat shaky. Bringing his own hand up to rest on hers he simply nodded agreement. "We must put our trust in them or else the Quest will have already failed." They stood there silently for sometime, in their minds retracing the path the Fellowship had already taken, also, the journey still to come. After some time, Arwen made her way to her quarters, feeling she could hold the tears back no longer. Soon Elrond also made his way back to his study. On the way, he noted that the candles that normally illuminated the vast amount of rooms and corridors still remained unlit. He knew they would stay this way for the remainder of the night, leaving all covered in darkness. Already he could feel the sorrow and despair growing over the hearts of the inhabitants of the city, It was hard enough that the elves would soon leave this land and journey to the grey havens. The fact that they might be leaving their home for it to be taken over by the hand of Sauron only made the situation grimmer. He finally reached the elm door, pushing it open and stepping through. A faint glow emanated from the stubby tallow candle that was placed on the end of his desk. In front of him the pale moon shone through the large open window, shining over the tops of trees and the multitude of cliffs outside before it became obstructed by the host of clouds once more.

"Tell me one thing." He said after a while, to what seemed to be nothing but the air. "Just one reason why you did not go." There was silence, until the large chair behind Elrond's desk seemed to sigh. It was covered completely in shadow, which was lifted for a brief moment as the clouds parted to reveal the moon's milky glow. Hidden in the depths of the surprisingly comfortable chair, sat Yunalesca, arms folded in a loose fashion across her abdomen. Sensing that she would need time to contemplate her answer, Elrond in turn went to sit on the chair usually reserved for guests.

"They never would have accepted me." She answered, after what seemed like a millennia. "If something were to happen to Gandalf, who would they turn to for leadership? Aragorn is obviously the leader of the group, the hobbits trust him and his opinions, as do the majority of the fellowship. You know that him and I aren't exactly…close, and because of this, I believe the others would be inclined to reject me as well." She paused. "Besides, everyone else seems to think they can do it alone, so who knows? Maybe they'll succeed after all."

"You don't mean that." He stated.

"You're right," Yuna replied, all too cheerfully. "I don't. I've seen nothing so far that would make me think otherwise. You've just sent nine of the council to their deaths. Do you really think this will work? Do you seriously trust in the strength of these nine so much?" It took him a while to answer.

"I wouldn't have sent them if I didn't think they could accomplish this task."

"This _task_? The fate of every living creature rests in the hands of the fellowship. You were there, Elrond, you were there when the armies of Middle-Earth battled against the forces of Mordor. You saw what it was like. The Dark Lord has an almost bottomless supply of creatures to hurl at anything that dares to enter Mordor. If it took the armies of Middle-Earth to gain the upper hand, what chance do you suppose a few hobbits, a dwarf, an elf, a wizard and two _men_ have?"

"A small group can make up in stealth what is lacked in strength."

"That's assuming they will not disperse at the first sight of trouble."

"None of them can go farther than they will. If it is their choice to back away from the quest, we cannot interfere."

"If at least _five_ of the company make it past the Andúin, they will have earned my respect."

"Why do you have such little faith in them?" He was almost scolding her.

"You of all people should know." She replied instantly, her voice a little louder than she'd intended. "Isildur had the chance to destroy the ring's evil forever. And it is because of the greed of men that we must pay the price three _thousand_ years later. Men are weak. You said so yourself. We cannot base this quest on the hope that the same thing will not happen again."

"Aragorn is Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. The mistakes that have been made cannot be undone, but Aragorn is strong enough not to make them again." There was a silence that hung uneasily in the air.

The sentence may have sounded innocent enough to unaware individual, but to her it held a deeper meening that she was certain he knew of. "Don't bring this up now." She said icily, casting her eyes away from his harsh stare.

"This is pointless, Yunalesca. He was just a child. He could not have known what he was doing."

"It's more complicated than that…I don't want to bring this up now. The simple fact is that I don't think this will work, and even if I were to go with them, the outcome would be the same."

"I can see that you are set in your ways." He said as if to end the conversation, but then reconsidered, "What will you do now?" She sighed, having preferred not to branch into that subject.

"Return to Fangorn, I suppose." She answered lazily, knowing that any battle raged would end in her defeat. "I have a feeling the ensuing months won't exactly be …pleasant."

"Then you will be leaving soon?" He phrased it as a question, but knew it was a fact. Raising a slim eyebrow, she responded.

"Yes…I plan to leave in the morning."

"And you will be taking the usual route? Through the mountains and just past Lorien?"

"Yes…Lord Elrond, I mean this in all due respect, but please do not patronise me. If you have something to say, just say it."

"I did not intend to disrespect, and hope I did not offend you by inquiring, but if that is the case, I implore your forgiveness." He said the words, but yet again, they did not sound as they were meant to.

"There is nothing to forgive," She replied rather dully. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have some things I must attend to before my departure. I must thank you for your hospitality and bid you farewell. Though I pray that we will meet again some day." On that note of finality, she made her way to the door in an attempt to leave without anything further being said.

"One last thing," There it was, with one little sentence, any hope of getting out of the situation unscathed was dashed. "I will not ask much, just that you take a thought into consideration."

"Under the circumstances, I suppose it is the least I can do." She practically whispered

"The fellowship are to be travelling the same road as you, perhaps you could…." He heard a soft chuckle from the direction of the door.

"I understand." She turned back round to face him "You want me to tag along with this fellowship of yours. Don't you think that would be a little hypocritical of me? Besides, I was the one who against this in the first place."

"I said nothing of the sort. I didn't ask you to join them on the quest to mount Doom, but if you were to merely…"

"I understand perfectly." She repeated.

"I would consider it a personal favour to me that I would do my best to repay."

"It seems the only way you can get me to agree to things these days is by making them little favours of yours."

"It would only be until your paths divert, of course."

"If I do indeed decide to do this favour of yours, you must bear in mind it will be one of my last in this land." After a long and unmistakably deliberate pause, Elrond spoke in a slow, deep voice.

"You will be sailing to the Grey Havens with us, then?"

"There is nothing for me here. As much as it sickens me to think I would be leaving the world at its darkest hour, I would much less be around for its destruction. It's not as if anyone would miss me."

"And the forest?"

"If the situation was serious enough for the Ents were to go to war, I would not make much of a difference. To tell the truth, as selfish as it may seem, I would rather not be there to see it."

"I see. You are more than welcome to come with us in any case."

_"Diola lle._ I will think about your proposal. But for now, I bid you farewell."

"Goodbye, Yunalesca. I hope we will meet again before long."

The memories of the long conversation clouded her mind as she dropped to the ground shortly after Aragorn had left. She had meant every word she said, and had no intention of staying in Middle-Earth to see it torn apart. As soon as their paths separated, she would return to her home. Or, at least, she supposed it was her home. She'd lived there most of her ample lifetime, but had never really felt comfortable living among the great creatures. It was time to go, she decided. She'd stay for another few months to see how things turned out, and that would be it. She'd sail to the west, to the Grey Havens, away from the wars and suffering that had engulfed the lands. She tucked a silvery lock of hair behind a delicate ear and began to trace the Ranger's steps.

'_Good thing Túlka knows the way home, I doubt I'd have made it this far unnoticed with a great mare beside me.'_

She reached the edge of the small wood within a matter of minutes and quickly saw the fellowship less than half an hour away. Scouting out the best and least obvious route with her mind's eye, she began the tedious process of following them once more. Yuna was starting to wish she had just gone home instead of wasting her time on one of Lord Elrond's favours. To tell the truth, she was starting to wish she had never even gone to the council. '_The Ents aren't much concerned with the troubles of Men and the free races, If they don't see the point in going to war, then why should I even care about the outcome?'_

_'Because'._Her subconscious replied. '_You don't want to see innocent people suffer because of a mistake made thousands of years ago._'

'_It's not like I'll make a difference anyway._'

'_Anyone can make a difference if they try hard enough.'_

'_But…_'

Fantastic, she thought. I've become a schizophrenic.

It was late afternoon when the Fellowship finally set up camp on a rocky outcrop overlooked by the daunting Misty Mountains. Yunalesca decided it would be a good time to catch up with them enough to hear their plans for the ensuing journey, she knew they were planning to go south past Isengard, but she suspected all would not go to plan. This was confirmed as the Fellowship narrowly avoided discovery by the Crebain that flocked overhead. Much to her dismay, they decided that their route must now go over the Misty Mountains, through the pass of Caradhras.

A.N. Merry Christmas '02!


	10. Decisions

'…_It's true, the way I feel,_

_What's promised by your face._

_The sound of your voice,_

_Painted on my memories,_

_Even if you're not with me, I'm with you…'_

_With you Linkin Park_

Chapter Four - Decisions

'_They're taking the long way round again. The Dwarf would have a field day.'_

Yunalesca crouched behind a small boulder that for its part shielded her and her unmistakably dark cloak that contrasted beautifully with the thick blanket of snow that covered the mountain. It was tedious, no doubt, watching the Fellowship's steady but plainly slow course through the pass. She almost felt sorry for the single elf in the party, who walked effortlessly around the struggling members of the group.

'_He must be bored to death._' She mused, '_I'm surprised he hasn't felt the need to throw himself off the nearest cliff._'

The two men and the wizard were snowflake-covered beacons on the mountainside, labouring through the waist-high snow. The gleaming helmet and the four muffs of curly hair were the only indication of where the more vertically challenged members of the company stood. Despite the Hobbit's determination, they kept stumbling on drifts and places where the snow had grown treacherously deep. She watched their painfully slow progress for a minute or two, and then moved on. It was true, the path she had taken was a more dangerous one and was certainly more difficult, but it was also a lot quicker.

She held her cloak tighter around her frame, wondering why she was bothering to do so if she was not cold to start with.

The blizzard was growing fiercer by the minute. Snow whipped around the small ledges that acted as paths through the blanket that had settled on the cliff-face. Again, Yunalesca mused about why it was she had agreed to do this. It also gave her a chance to realise that she was in dire need of a holiday.

'_On the upside, at least I'm getting a good workout._' She thought as she shimmied inch by inch along the almost vertical precipice. '_Yeah right. Like I'm not considering throwing myself off so I can be done with this over-exaggerated hill._'

Her fingers dug into the tiny outcrops of rock as she balanced her aching feet on the even smaller ledges below.

'_Stupid Fellowship._'

She cursed the fact that they had found the only decent path around the abominable mountaintop, leaving her to edge slowly around a god-forsaken area underneath. She could hear the voice of the white wizard echoing about the mountains, commanding the very elements.

It was ironic, one of the few people she knew quite well was now one of their biggest threats. He often walked through the enchanted woods in more peaceful times, and he was one of the only people whom she would ever had admitted holding a somewhat peculiar friendship with. But that was a long time ago. His visits had been abruptly cut short. And it was only after a month or so that she finally found out why. She ignored these thoughts for the time being and concentrated to hear what the Fellowship were saying. Straining her ears, she gripped the wall and listened to the scraps of conversation she could hear above the noise of the snowstorm.

"…fell...oice…e…air…"

"It's Saruman!" She heard Gandalf bellow as the icy outcrops above gave way to a horde of boulders that crashed down on the ledge below. She pressed herself to the rock face, clinging with all her remaining strength as a particularly large rock grazed her cloak. She didn't need to be reminded of the ample drop below, so why she instinctively looked down was beyond her comprehension. She almost went week at the knees, but forced herself to concentrate on the voices above.

"...dalf…must...back…"

'_NO! Shut up you stupid ranger, I didn't come all this way just to turn around again because the almost-king of Gondor can't handle a bit of snow!'_

"No!" With that, she heard a deeper voice join the chanting of the voice in Isengard. The battle of voices aged for a few more seconds, but it was clear who the victor was when a bolt of lightning struck the remaining bulk of the mountain, dislodging a vast clump of snow and sending it cascading down the mountain in an avalanche that threatened to sweep the Fellowship off the mountainside. Apart from the constant whistle of the wind, all was silent in the wake of the episode. She was silently proud that she hadn't fallen off the mountain. Even from where she was she could tell that the overhead ledge had been buried under ice. She shook her head in order to dislodge the large amount of snow that had taken up residence on her rather large bun of hair.

All was silent. She feared to breathe lest someone heard her. Finally, she heard the Fellowship slowly emerging from the snow, and what she assumed to be a small search for the Hobbits took place as a voice yelled:

"Gandalf! We must turn back! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

'_Boromir._'

"th…Gap..f…Rohan takes…s…t…Isengrd!" She assumed that to be an objection, and for once, trusted the Ranger's opinion. She heard little of the next sentence, but the words that dug into her skull and sent a chill down her rigid spine were "The Mines of Moria."

'_Dear god, whatever I said about the Gap of Rohan or the mountain I take it back. Anything but the mines. Not the mines, if I have to pass through those damn stinking dwarf-holes again I think I might actually kill myself.'_ There was a long pause, before Gandalf finally spoke.

"Let..ing-bearer d…ide..." '_Come on, Frodo, you _don't _want to go through the mines. Be a good little Hobbit, the Gap of Rohan isn't so bad, really…' _She cursed out loud when, finally, his decision was made, but luckily, the snowstorm made it inaudible.

It was reaching sundown. The crimson dusk set in for another evening of almost non-stop travelling. They had hardly rested once the mountain had defeated them, it had been almost a week ago that the fatal decision was made. Not only did they need to make up for lost time, they wanted to avoid at all costs the creatures that dwelled around these areas. Yuna wasn't complaining, the faster they got in and out of the mines, the better.

She remembered her last unfortunate journey through the catacombs. Caradhras was far too perilous to cross on that particular occasion, and she had been forced through the mines. The reception she had received in Moria had been altogether unpleasant, the dwarves did not look kindly on strange visitors passing through their mines. It had been her first and her last visit, it was not an experience worth reliving, though unfortunately she now found she would have to.

It was a few hours later, after night was fully established that strange howls started to emerge from the surrounding area. She knew all too well what kind of beast they originated from. The Fellowship simply tried to ignore them as they hurried onwards. But after another half-hour of walking, it was obvious that their presence had been noticed, and they now had a number of unwanted creatures following them. It became apparent that some kind of confrontation was inevitable.

She heard their voices, quiet and wary of the situation. Aragorn suggested they find a place to camp, if only to be prepared when they had to face the currently unseen enemy. It wasn't the greatest of ideas, but it was decent considering the Hobbits were in desperate need of some sort of break. Even if it was just to rest their feet.

Ultimately, the unavoidable battle commenced…

The party anxiously looked around them, swords drawn ready for the ensuing conflict. Yuna had found a small spot just overlooking the camp. She perched on the thick bough that the ancient elm created and silently readied her crossbow. It was an ingenious invention, which, she thought, never had enough developing. Her own model was quite small, but powerful nonetheless. She wore a small gauntlet, which also served as a makeshift shield on her left arm, sporting a number of small grooves that ran quite deeply through the metal. Taking her time, she reached inside the small pack that was concealed under her cloak and brought forth a small wooden object, sliding it carefully into place on her gauntlet until it was held securely. Yuna felt for the tiny lever towards the rear of the object and moved it slightly upwards. This resulted in the contraption flipping open and setting itself up with a slight click. A small and beaten crossbow stood on the gauntlet, not looking as if it could fire, let alone cause any severe damage. A leather bag of crossbow bolts also came out of the bundle before it returned behind her back. By the time this process was completed and she was fully ready, the wolf-like creatures were already attacking. Her murky eyes scanned the battle for any chance to take down one of the creatures. She had no intense desire to interject, but if it came down to it, she knew she would have to. With that, she just prayed the Fellowship could handle a minor battle like this well enough.

A few silent bolts glided silently past the surrounding foliage and found their mark, embedding themselves in the creature's necks. They weren't much of a challenge, and they weren't very bright. They simply hurled themselves at the nearest target, jaws wide open to reveal row upon row of glistening teeth. Usually one or two shots was enough to take one down, if it was well-aimed. The Fellowship seemed to be holding their own quite well, she decided, but wondered if it would last. If they had much trouble here, she told herself, there would be no point in continuing. The quest would have already failed.

Frodo looked around the battle, fearful. Sting was drawn, and now and then slashed away at any wolf creature that could make its way past the barrier of Hobbits. Merry, Pippin and Samwise were huddled close to Frodo, daring anything to try and harm the Ring-Bearer. The young Baggins slowly put his hand to the thin golden chain around his neck. It was still there, just like the last time he'd checked. Wondering why he was so cautious of its whereabouts, he focused back on the battle. The attacks seemed to have stopped for now, but he could still feel their presence nearby. A second wave was due soon, he clutched Sting tightly and waited.

Pippin, for his part, was feeling on top of the world. This was his first real battle, and he seemed to have a perpetual adrenaline rush. He didn't count the unfortunate encounter with the Ringwraiths a battle, seeing as he didn't have a chance of winning in the first place. But this time was different. There were other people who actually knew what they were doing, and he was awe-struck to see the way they easily fell creature after creature without pause.

The area around them was silent. The air was thick with the stench of dried blood and the many carcasses of deceased wolves littered the earth. A torch in the centre of the party provided an area of light that only the bravest or more likely stupidest of the creatures was prepared to enter. But even he could feel them, gathered just around the rim, a second wave ever ready to attack.

He heard a tiny noise, almost inaudible, to his left. He turned slowly to see a pair of bloodthirsty jaws, dripping with saliva, about to enclose upon his head. His mind went blank, he couldn't move.

So this was it. He'd always imagined that his death would involve more alcohol.

His mind was thrown back into reality as the wolf's throat was thrust from his vision. It was about to tear his head off, but stopped mid-lunge in was thrown to the ground by an unknown force, and now it lay lifeless on the floor. He turned to Legolas, expecting to see him standing there, bow drawn. But he, and the rest of the Fellowship, were more concerned with the second wave of attacks. The bow was nowhere to be seen.

He knelt by the creature and saw the short wooden shaft protruding from its neck, with some effort, he eased it out, and examined it further. Or, at least, he tried to, no further detail could be seen, and for the while, he decided to put it in his pocket for safekeeping and have another look in the morning. If it ever came.

…And it did. The battle had been won, as it should have been, seeing as their foes were hardly worthy opponents of the skill that the group supposedly held. Pippin was ambling along in a state of blissful unawareness of anything but how heavy with sleep his eyelids were. The Fellowship were on the move again, leaving behind the blood-soaked earth and the pile of corpses to rot in the sunlight. It was about six in the morning, for the young Hobbits reckoning. Precisely the time that a pre-breakfast snack would have really hit the spot. Thoughts of grilled mushrooms and fresh rashers of bacon entered his mind. They seemed to be calling to him, singing even. His eyes opened. The last part of his otherwise pleasant vision was just too strange to continue. Plus, some unidentifiable object seemed to be irritating his side, poking an already tender spot. He dreaded the thought of lifting his arms to see what the object of his annoyance was, that would mean he'd have to move his arms _as well_ as his legs. Pushing the desperate cries of objection from his mind, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the object. It was wooden, about a foot in length, though possibly a little shorter. It looked to be a sort of miniature arrow, having a sharp metal point at one end and a tiny amount of feathering at the other.

"What's that, Pip?" Said the ever-chirpy voice of his cousin. "What've you got there? Let's have a look!" Without waiting for an answer, he snatched the object from Pippin's feeble grasp and ogled it with as much intensity as can be expected from a Hobbit at such an early hour. "It looks like a stick if you ask me! And a funny one at that. Hey, what's all this feathery stuff coming out of the end? And look at this sharp bit at the front! You could poke yourself on that and really get hurt…ow!"

"Give me that!" Pippin said, once he had regained some of his equilibrium that was usually reserved for more sunlit hours. "That's a souvenir, that is! Got that out of a dead wolfy thing that almost took me head off!"

Aragorn's ears perked up upon hearing this small conversation, and he picked his pace up slightly in order to get closer to where they were walking. Curiosity took the better of him as he looked at the prized object that Pippin was now trying to retrieve from Merry's grip.

"Could I see that for a moment, Merry?" The ranger asked.

"Sure, here you go!" Merry handed it to him, much to the anger of his cousin.

"It's not yours to give away, you little thief!" Unsure of what to do next, Aragorn watched as the accusation turned into a fully blown argument. They had soon forgotten about him, so he decided simply to stay out of their way.

"Legolas," The Elf immediately looked up to his companion. "Come have a look at this." He slowed his pace to match the Ranger's. "One of yours?" He asked, handing him the small shaft of wood. Legolas shook his head, perplexed.

"No, I've never seen it before. It almost looks to be…a crossbow bolt." He looked up, even more confused. "But unless I am mistaken, none in the Fellowship carry that sort of weapon."

"No, they don't." He replied slowly. "Pippin." He called to the quarrelling Hobbit who gave an evil look to Merry before going over to Aragorn. "Where did you find this?" Pippin shrugged.

"It was last night. In one of those Cerebain thingies. It was about to rip my hread right off, but it just fell over and I found this thing sticking out it's head. It was all bloody and gooey and–"

"Thank you, Pippin." He cut him off before he could further delight them with tales of grey matter.

"Then...maybe you were right." Said the Elven prince. "Perhaps something _is_ following us." It was at that moment that he heard it. It was just the slightest whisper, he wasn't even sure if it was there at all. But he thought he heard a faint curse some distance back.

"What is it?"

"I…thought I heard something. Back there–

–in the bushes."

"Shit!" Yuna swore again, unable to prevent herself.

'_You fucking idiot! Now they don't just know someone's following them, but they also know that you're right bloody there!'_ She scanned her surroundings, there was no easy way of moving from her spot if she wanted to remain unseen. Another silent profanity escaped her lips as she saw the Elven archer break away from the Fellowship and move over in her direction.

Aragorn nodded to Legolas, who turned and ran slowly up the subtle hill that led to a small patch of woodland. His gaze rested on a sole bush in particular. He watched it carefully, not even blinking. It moved. It was just a fraction of a centimetre, and to even the most finely tuned human eyesight, would have been invisible, but it was there. In a fraction of a second, his bow was drawn and held taught as he aimed it directly at the bush. He couldn't take a hand of his bow to move the foliage aside, so he opted for his foot instead. It would mean taking his eyes off the spot for just over a second, but there was little else he could do. With the agility of a cat, he shoved the bush over and pointed the tip of his arrow at…nothing. He examined the surrounding area. Nothing was there. Just as the many times before. The only sounds were of the wind gently whistling through the trees and various wildlife going about their morning routines. Everything was normal.

She had made it out of there, barely. If the circumstances had been different and the Elf hadn't needed to swerve round, that would have been it for her. Thankfully a split second was all she had took to make her get away. She moved as swiftly as she could and by the time his bow was pointed, all there was to greet it was air. Waiting for a good while, she had regained the pursuit. The Fellowship were far more alert from now on; both the encounter with the Cerebain and Yuna's near miss had made Aragorn and Gandalf decide that they needed to employ more caution concerning the company's journey. Although she in turn had to take more care in not being detected, Yuna actually didn't mind. It meant that the group moved with twice the speed instead of their usual snails pace. So now it was about a week and a half later. They were now nearing the rock face that held the supposedly great gates of Moria. A chill went down her spine as she recognised the murky lake and the overgrown slab of rock that towered menacingly above them. The nauseating memories of her 'stay' in the Mines came flooding back all too clearly, and Gimli's remarks about red meet ripe off the bone did little to settle her stomach. The young Hobbits gazed, awe-struck at the monumental rock face as Gimli began to explain the various wonders of Moria in a slightly over confident tour-guide-esque tone.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."

'_Why doesn't that surprise me?'_ She thought, then glared viciously at the back of the elf's head as he said the same thing out loud. '_Stupid blonde._'

Yuna crept forward as the grey wizard muttered to himself. The moon unveiled itself from behind the clouds and shone onto the great doors of Moria. A gold light seemed to swim between the contours of the wall and the vast carvings on the doors were now visible.

'_Okay, brilliant, we're here, now just say _Mellon_ and we can get through that crumbling hole in the earth as soon as possible'_ She thought, crouching halfway down a small rocky ledge on the cliff side.

The words never escaped his mouth.

The fellowship looked on expectantly as a bundle of Elvish and Dwarvish spells alike escaped his lips, but not once did the word '_mellon_.'

The onlooker sank down into a more comfortable position and sighed. '_This could take a while.'_


	11. Trapped

'_…Cut my life into pieces,_

This is my last resort.

Suffocation, no breathing,

Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding...'

__

Papa Roach Last Resort

Chapter Six – Trapped

Clouds of dust from the collapsed slabs of rock filled the base of the ample staircase leading deeper into the mines irritated sinuses and eyes alike. It wasn't that the ancient air that already inhabited the so-called tombs wasn't bad enough, but the added effect of the extra particles didn't make for a very warm welcome into Moria. Frodo was still shaken by the incident with the creature from the deep; his ankle ached where the monster had wrapped its gnarled tentacle round his leg and hauled the Hobbit metres from the waters surface. The details of how he'd been rescued were still hazy, as at the time he'd had to deal with other things such as all the blood that his body contained rushing to his head. He remembered the flash of a sword, steel glinting in the moonlight as various members of the Fellowship attempted to cut him down. Sounds, the distinct whiz of arrows slicing through air and of course the tremendous groans from the creature itself as its limbs were severed. Squinting in the darkness he made out vague outlines of his companions as they steadied themselves after the encounter. A point began to glow against the black background, the light growing to reveal a mat of grey hair and a dirty beard. Gandalf, the old wizard, didn't look too pleased with the situation at hand. What Frodo could still only describe as a crystal on the top of his staff was the source of the light that had now grown to illuminate most of the chamber. It skipped over the Dwarven skeletons, valiant warriors that even in death clutched their axes, ready for battle. The Hobbit looked to the space where the doors had once taken up residence. All that was left was a pile of rubble…moving rubble.

A dark figure, the Elven archer remembered a dark, cloaked figure jump down from cliff face in what he assumed was an attempt to save Frodo. He assumed this because, well, he had to admit that they could have easily murdered, or at least helped the creature to kill the Ring bearer on several occasions. But there was something that unnerved him. It was the fact that who ever it was had been able to avoid the attentions of both Aragorn and Legolas himself for at least a little while. Just how long the stranger had been following them was still a mystery, this only added to his uneasiness. In all the times the Ranger had gone back checking over every little inch of ground he'd found hardly anything to suggest that there might be some sort of a tracker. The question now, was what had happened to them? Had they been killed by the creature? He'd fired a few last shots at the watcher before he'd run into the mines to give the stranger some time to get away. In a way he felt slightly guilty for it, but then again, they had helped, and in his opinion only a servant of the Dark Lord deserved to die in such a gruesome manner. His train of thought was derailed as a pale light started to shatter the darkness, breaching the shadows. His eyes adjusted at a moment's notice as he scouted to make sure that all nine members of the Fellowship had made it in unharmed. A tiny stone falling from the heap of rubble that was not so long ago known as the entrance caught his attention. The pile started to move. It was only slight at first, a tiny pebble here and there, but then lager things started to fall until at last the tips of a set of fingers broke forth from a tiny space between two boulders. There was a muffled groan before a full hand shot out and started feeling around, searching for a place to get a grip on. It went limp after a few moments before perking up again and waving almost comically to the bemused Fellowship.

"Little help here?" Croaked a voice from beneath the rubble. Each member of the Fellowship in turn looked to Gandalf then Aragorn and finally to Frodo. The young Hobbit made a move towards the pile.

"Wait!" Said Aragorn sharply. Frodo stopped and turned to face him.

"That person down there helped to save me…I…I remember…we can't just leave them to suffocate. It wouldn't be right." With that Frodo walked to the heap, picking off the smaller rocks and boulders on the mound. Following his lead, Sam, Merry and not long after, Pippin came to help him. It became slightly obvious however half way during the Hobbits task, that they would be somewhat unable to lift some of the larger slabs that covered the unwanted stranger. Seeing this fact, Legolas decided to give in to Frodo's plight, walking over and helping Merry with a rather cumbersome rock. It took a while but eventually a large slab was removed, a cloak-covered body was uncovered from the wreckage and after a bit of struggling, out half walked half-crawled Yuna.

"Lady Yunalesca." Said Aragorn all too inhospitably.

"Lord Aragorn." She returned, seemingly oblivious as she brushed off the dust and dirt that had attached itself to her. "Hope you don't mind me dropping in on you like this. I just thought I might come by and see how you where getting along." It was coming back to Legolas now, he remembered her face from the council and her irregular features. He also remembered her parting remarks.

"What are you doing here, _woman_?" Asked Boromir viciously. "What depraved powers are you working for?" He walked forward until he had drawn level with Yuna who was now standing and looked her straight in the eye.

It was all Yuna could do stop herself from recoiling as Boromir's putrid breath was projected straight in to her face. Swallowing hard, she barely managed to produce a smile. It wasn't large, first, a curl of the lips, the corners then rising, and finally, a lift in the cheeks. However, it never quite reached her eyes, which held a sort of eternally glazed spite.

"As I said before." She replied icily. "I just thought I'd see how you were doing." '_Liar_'

"She is in allegiance with Sauron, why else would she come here?" More of his infamous gestures. '_And why else would I risk getting my foot chewed off to save the Ring-Bearer?'_ He turned to face Aragorn. "You heard the words she spoke at the council, she is only here to destroy what it is we've been fighting for." Yuna could sense that things were about to take a turn for the worst. As silently and inconspicuously as she could, she hid away her crossbow and other small weapons until it looked as if they were merely harmless parts of her outfit. Her daggers would have to be left, but there was little she could do about that.

"What would you have us do Boromir?" Said the Ranger in response. "Although I personally would not trust her, Lord Elrond respected her enough to let her join the council, and as some of us know, he does not make decisions of that sort lightly. We cannot just kill her–" '_That's nice._' "–Nor can we let her go to do as she pleases. If, indeed she was in allegiance with the Dark Lord, she would only get word back to him of our quest." '_Like he doesn't already know.'_

"Then there is only one thing to do." Gandalf interrupted, "We must take her with us. Now come along, we have little time to waste."

"I am _in_ the room, so if you wouldn't mind talking about me as if I'm not…I don't get a say in this, do I?" Yuna said, getting agitated, because, even though it was her well-being they were talking about, she seemed to have no part in the conversation.

"Well, my dear, seeing as you seem to have no intention of telling us what your purpose here is, or what your actions towards us might be. We have no choice but to consider you as hostile." '_Good choice.'_ "If we are quick, it will only take us four days to reach the other side. We cannot tarry in our decisions. When we reach Lórien, we will let the elves decide what to do with you. Now, bind her hands so she doesn't get into any mischief." Yuna looked menacingly around to the various members of the fellowship; they all seemed rather reluctant to comply with Gandalf's request. "Quickly now, time is of the essence."

"Fine, I will do it." The Gondorian came forward, slipping some rope out of his pack.

"Touch me," She said between gritted teeth. "And I assure you you'll live to regret it…oops, did I say _live_? So I suggest that you do not come any nearer, or I will not be held responsible for my rather…unfriendly actions." This seemed to deter Boromir slightly, he'd already stopped in his tracks, unsure of what he should do next. In truth, she did look as if she was more than able to carry out her threat, and he wasn't about to try and test whether this was true or not.

"Ahem…In that case." Came a voice that originated in the direction of a somewhat strawberry-looking Merry. "Would you allow me, milady?" Yuna could barely stop herself from smirking. Amused with how the situation was turning out.

"But of course, dear sir." She replied politely. It was easy to see that embarrassment was oozing out of the young Hobbit's pores, there was no need to further it by turning him down. The smirks and chuckles from his fellow Hobbits seemed to only make his face turn a rather fetching shade of beetroot. "I suppose you'll be wanting me to remove my weapons?"

"It would be kind of ya." He replied, going full-blown crimson. She did as he said, removing all the more…obvious weapons, which was really only a small dagger here and there. Anything that might really cause damage was already well hidden. She wasn't about to use them on the Fellowship, but she'd been through Moria before, and in case they ran into any opposition, she wasn't about to be left unarmed. After taking the rope out of Boromir's grasp, the Hobbit went to Yuna, who'd already put forward her hands and was looking wickedly in the dirty-blonde's direction.

"I'll take the weapons, shall I?" Said Pippin, who'd, unnoticed by everyone else, sidled up behind Merry, his undisputed partner in crime, and was now looking like a magpie at the shiny bladed objects scattered about her feet. Merry was carefully wrapping and knotting lengths of rope around and between Yuna's wrists. She hated to see someone else handling, really, the only possessions she had, but there was nothing she could do. So, pushing away her pride, she did the only thing she could.

"Just…careful you don't cut yourself." She said apprehensively. '_And for the Valar's sake, don't take them by the blade!'_ She added to herself.

"Don't worry," Said the young Hobbit pleasantly. "I promise you I will take the utmost care in returning them to you in perfect condition." Despite all the past occurrences that might stand to contradict his statement, she believed him. Some say that your eyes are the gateway to your soul. And when she looked into his, all she could see was the innocence of a child, even though she knew he was proabaly older than Boromir. When finally Merry had finished his delicate task, he slowly backed away, with his head a little bowed. Pips then also finished packing up the prized objects, and went to stand triumphantly next to his cousin.

"Is that all, Lady Yuna?" Asked the Ranger, suspiciously.

"My dear Aragorn, are you accusing me of lying?"

"Yes." Came the blunt answer. He retrieved the elusive crossbow bolt from somewhere on his person.

"Hey! That's mine! I was lookin' for that." Said an outraged Pippin.

"I believe this is one of yours? And unless I am mistaken, some kind of a propulsion device is needed to fire this, more formally known as a crossbow...?"

Yuna sighed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes as high as they would go. "Fine. You've got me. But I can't exactly _get_ to it with my hands like this."

"I'll get it." Chimed Pips, a little quicker then he'd meant to. Even more embarrassed, he ambled forwards, looking up expectantly.

"It's strapped to my leg, over there." She nodded in the general direction of her right thigh. '_Because _this_ isn't gonna be awkward at all_.' Pippin looked uncertainly at the small leather strap around it and gulped, he could feel the blood rushing to his head. Carefully, he felt around for the buckle and tried to unfasten it without touching her leg. "Right a bit, no, down, hey! Left, a bit more, bit more, uh, not there, sweetie." Yuna, at this current point in time was trying to convince herself that, no, she was not being touched up by a waist-high Halfling. Success! He had finally managed to release the buckle and now held the small object proudly in his hand. As he scampered back to his cousin, Merry gave him a look that could have curdled milk. Pippin grinned widely in return.

"Then let us get on." The old wizard said lowly. "As I said, it will take us at the very least four days to get through the mines, let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

With that, the Fellowship and their reluctant companion were on their way, up the stone steps and beyond.


	12. Boredom

A.N Just to stress one thing, we are not doing the Suish 'Boromir did that thing so he is evil and therefore a pervert!' route. That's just annoying.

_ '…She said life's a lot to think about sometimes   
When you're living in between the lines  
And all the stars are sparkling, shine everyday  
He said life's so hard to move in sometimes  
When it feels like I'm in the line  
And no one even cares to ask me why I feel this way…'_

_3 Doors Down – 'Road I'm On'_

Chapter seven Contact

To say that it was dark in the mines would be like saying that the Sahara desert is merely a tad mild, as opposed to its true state of buggeringly hot. The inky black was like a dreadful substance that coated everything in the vast amount of caverns and rooms, only the light emanating from Gandalf's staff made it possible to see in the overpowering gloom.

It had been approximately five hours since the group had entered Moria. They had hardly taken a break since, and a vast majority of the company were feeling exhausted from the trek. At the moment they were travelling along a path that could only be half a metre wide at the most. It was raised far from the cavern's floor, where exactly that was, not even Yuna could make out. Whether it was one or two miles down didn't matter, what did, was the fact that if you happened to fall over or trip, which at the moment was a likely possibility if you didn't keep your wits about you, no one would ever make it back up. The Fellowship trudged along in the virtual silence; it seemed to the female accompanying the party that turtles could cover more ground in less time.

The grey wizard led the group, this seemed only logical as he held the only source of light apart from the torch held by Aragorn and also claimed to know the way. After him, came the elf, then the Hobbits, and following that, the Dwarf, who seemed to be in a state of constant awe over pieces of useless rock. It was true that Moria was quite impressive all together, but in Yuna's mind, all it was, was a bunch of idiotic Dwarves trying to show off their so-called skills. Yuna herself had been placed some way back from the middle of the group. She congratulated them for showing a bit of sense; it was a decision that, if indeed she had been placed in the same situation, would have made. Though this choice came with a heavy price, because it meant that the profusely annoying Gondorian had been placed directly behind her. She couldn't decide who would be worse, him or Aragorn. At the moment, she'd settle for him. She could feel his eyes constantly on the back of her head, the past few hours had been hell, the constant urge to turn around, break his knees and shove him over the edge was getting overpoweringly strong. It wasn't just that he kept staring at her, the last time they'd stopped for a five-minute break, she'd overheard a hushed conversation between him and the dwarf. Really, it was just a lot more nonsense about her being a spy for the dark lord. But it only helped to push him further away from her good books. Her patience was running thin, and it would only be a matter of time before she snapped. Then, for no particular reason that she could see, time ran out. She whipped round, which was rather a hard thing to do without falling to your death in the current situation, and glared bitterly at Boromir. He practically tripped over her, not prepared for the sudden outburst.

"What!" Yuna shouted, hearing the echo bounce around the walls of the cave a second later. He stared at her like a deer caught in headlights. "I know for a fact that the back of my head isn't _that_ interesting, so if you have anything to say, say it to my face."

"I…uh…it's…" He trailed off, leaving nothing but an awkward silence in reply. The rest of the party had stopped to watch the display and were looking on slightly bemused. Boromir stood dumbfounded and shrivelling under her menacing gaze.

"Well?" She said, his refusal to reply only made her more intent on getting one. But it was obvious after a while with no response, she wouldn't. "Never mind." She said relenting; further confrontation would have only served to waste time that they did not have. Turning back, she scowled at those who had turned round and they themselves felt the full force of _The Look_. It wasn't particularly terrifying, nor was it evil, you just didn't want to see it again. Within a couple of seconds they were moving forward again, and it seemed to her to be a little faster then previously.

Surprisingly enough, after this encounter, Boromir's eyes remained solely on the floor for practically the duration of the Fellowships journey through Moria.

It was hot. So much so that Yuna was finding it hard to breathe-in the stale air that was especially thick in this part of the Mines. The humidity was cutting off several parts of her brain, the bit that held most of her common sense being one of them. It was ridiculous, elves didn't feel temperature and yet she was. She was letting her other side take over. Something that confused her even further was the fact that the Mines were freezing in the first place. If it was indeed as heated as she thought, there would be condensation on the walls, but they remained bone dry. They had stopped in a small chamber to rest and try and recoup strength. Most were in some sate of sleep; the Hobbits had taken up residence in the centre of the floor space. Merry and Pippin were, she was sure, dreaming of some form of food or other, and Frodo was also asleep next to them, surprising enough he had got to sleep with some ease. Gandalf, Boromir and Aragorn were holding a mumbled conversation in one corner, as not to disturb the others. The Dwarf however was not paying the same courtesy as his fellow companions, his snores were becoming loud enough to wake the dead and she was amazed that the Hobbits could sleep through it. Legolas was standing against a wall with his eyes closed, he didn't require a vast amount of sleep but a rest of the mind was well enough.

It had come to her some time during the few hours following her confrontation with Boromir, that no one had stood up for him. They were meant to be the Fellowship, Middle-Earth's last hope and yet they wouldn't even stand up for one of their group. This made her wonder just what kind of relationship they held towards each other. They were obviously able to hold their own when it came to fight, but that was surely not enough. They needed honesty, integrity, self-sacrifice, hope, friendship, loyalty, empathy and above all trust. If they lacked in any of these areas, it would be almost impossible for them to succeed without a complete and utter miracle, not that they didn't need that already. So she had decided to find out just how far they could go. She knew that if she merely left them to find out for themselves and the quest failed, it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Even considering that in those circumstances, that might only be for a short while.

Yuna was seriously sure that she was slowly being driven insane. The ropes tied around her wrist were digging into her flesh and irritating already raw skin. She considered casually slipping out of them but then decided that they would merely tie up her feet and carry her as well. This wasn't much of a down side but she decided against it all the same. Sam was awake, watching over his master while twiddling his thumbs in extreme boredom. A thought crossed her mind; she almost giggled at her own diabolical ideas.

What followed was a sort of staring contest. Yuna's oceanic eyes bored into his skull, while he tried as hard as he could to do anything but lock with her unwavering gaze. '_You'll scare the poor creature half to death._' Said her subconscious. '_Ah well_' She mentally retorted. Bringing her bound hands up slightly, she beckoned to him using her index finger, keeping her look just as menacing. The Hobbit slowly rose, and, taking his time, apprehensively moved over to where she was sat on the floor, leaning down a fraction so she could whisper in his ear.

"Sam, don't tell anyone, but I'm really a servant of the Dark Lord Sauron, I'm here on a mission to kill the Fellowship and take the ring back to Mordor. Don't say anything, not a word to anyone." She murmured. The Halfling looked up at her and backed away slowly, eyes wide. "I'm joking, I'm joking." She assured him as he took his place by the Hobbits again. He looked back up just in time to see her put a finger to her lips. "Shhh…"

They had been in Moria three days now and thankfully had not seen signs of anything else remotely alive. The journey had been a rather arduous one, this was somewhat furthered by the fact that Dwarves seemed to think that steps only had to be four inches in width and yet eight in height. This made it slightly difficult for the Hobbits who had by now resorted to climbing them on hands and knees. They were just reaching the top of a particularly steep set at the moment; Yuna could see that behind a sharp outcropping stood three almost identical doors. The first held a staircase leading down, the second led straight on and third had another staircase that instead, this time, led upwards. Being the appointed guide of the group, Gandalf would have reached the landing first but stopped rather abruptly a few steps before.

"I have no memory of this place…" He uttered in silent bewilderment. The others seemed to sag down in defeat whilst Yuna merely carried on to the top. The Ranger however was close behind her, making sure that she would not decide on this moment to make her escape. She gazed deep into the darkness that all the paths held whilst willing her memory into life.

"It's that way." She said nonchalantly whilst gesturing to the door that lead downwards. Aragorn looked at her with all the cynicism that someone on a diet gives to something that sports the infamous legend: 'tastes great! And low fat too!'

"Why should we trust you, Lady Yuna?" He said pointedly. "And how would you even begin to know in the first place?" She raised the tiniest hint of an eyebrow.

"Lets just say I've been here before." She replied truthfully. " And do remember Aragorn that I happen to be your 'prisoner'," You could hear the inverted commas. "Therefore, wherever you go, I go too. So you see, it would be pointless for me to try and lead you into any trap."

"Even though you do bring a worthy point over, my dear. I am afraid we cannot trust your word alone." Said Gandalf interrupting.

"I suppose it is your choice." She returned grimly, after a while. "But when you do finally decide that that is indeed the right way, don't say I didn't tell you so." And with that she went to sit down on the platform where the rest of the group was situated.

It had been two insanely dull hours. Gandalf was still trying to remember the right way, or so he said. To Yuna it just looked like he wanted an excuse to smoke some weed. Sam was keeping well out of her way, which was rather annoying, because it meant she had no one to entertain herself with. Sighing, she looked around to the various members of the Fellowship. Aragorn sat staring at nothing in particular with his pipe in one hand, deep in thought. Gandalf sat some distance away, talking quietly with Frodo, the Hobbits were generally congregated in a corner, trying to get some sleep. Gimli's snores once again racked about the hollow mountain, and Legolas, as usual, was keeping himself to himself. Boromir was perched on a flat looking slab of rock, occasionally looking up from his engaging task of polishing his shield with a dingy cloth.

Something was gnawing at the back of her mind, why was Boromir looking at her in the first place. At first, she had thought that it was simply because there was no where else to look but at the person in front of you in that particular situation. She herself had noticed just how mind numbing having to stare at a dwarf's frizzy, unwashed locks for days on end was. But if that was so, then why did Boromir seem so lost for words when she had confronted him? She had a suspicion that it was simply because he didn't trust her, and so had felt it necessary to not let her out of his sights. But that was pretty pathetic, even for a human. Nevertheless, she mused, it was probably the most likely of candidates. His gaze landed on her for a number of seconds. He still looked embarrassed from their previous encounter. For some unknown reason, she seemed to have that sort of effect on people.

He got up. She could hear the clinking of the various metal objects strung together on his back as he paced over to where she sat with her legs crossed as casually as was possible in the current situation. Her muscles tensed up briefly as his voice cut through the humid silence.

"Lady Yuna?" He asked gingerly, not taking his eyes off her as her head turned slowly.

With a sigh, she replied, "First of all, I have absolutely no intention of calling you 'Lord,' so you can drop the idiotic formalities. Second of all, I'm not going to bite your head off – unless given good reason – so you might as well come a little closer." She indicated the barren stone floor next to her. Boromir, seeming a bit more relaxed, complied, taking a space beside her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a few random members of the Fellowship glancing at them briefly before returning to whatever it was they were doing. Without letting him speak, she continued talking, "So." She started, not really caring who heard. "What is this whole obsession you have with the fact that I'm on a mission from The Dark Lord to annihilate the Fellowship and retrieve the one ring?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come on, I'm not _that_ ignorant, don't think I haven't heard you talking. You're forgetting about these." She tucked back a few strands of hair behind her finely tipped ear. "I know what you've been saying, and you can trust me, if I was going to kill you in your sleep, I would have done so already."

"I'm sorry, but…" He paused. "…Surely you understand why we can't trust you."

"Not really, no, care to fill me in?" She lied fluently.

"Well…first of all, you show up unexpected outside the gates of Moria. And it's then that we discover you've been following us for however long. You understand, of course, that can be a little disconcerting."

"What?" Interjected Yuna.

"The fact that an possibly one of the best trackers around didn't find you."

"Don't forget the elf." She butted in.

"And Legolas as well, the fact that an elf didn't see or hear you is even stranger." Another pause. "Just out of interest, how long were you following us, exactly?"

"That's for me to know, and you...not to. And also, if you couldn't see your other tracker, what chance did you have of finding me?"

"Other tracker?" Yuna nodded her head in the direction of a lengthy drop. Sure enough, scuttling about on the rocky floor, was a pale grey creature that occasionally stopped and looked upwards. "What is that?"

"Gollum." She said simply. "He's been following you for quite some time now. I'm surprised you didn't see him."

"I must tell Gandalf." He said, getting up.

"He knows." She said in a matter-of-fact voice. "And if he chooses to do nothing, then so be it."

"I…see. Back on the subject, not only are you…well…a little strange…but we also had no way of knowing whether or not you were indeed sent from Saruman or The Dark Lord."

"Wait a moment. Understand that this is purely a hypothetical situation, but if I _was_ here to get the Ring, none of you would be here. In fact, the Hobbits would never had left the Shire and by now Sauron would already have the Ring in his possession, and we would all be…well, buggered, for lack of a better word." She grinned cheerfully. "So you see, there's really nothing for you to worry about."

"A valid point, I suppose."

"Hey, what did you call me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before the Dark Lord stuff, you called me strange." Boromir suddenly regretted ever opening his mouth.

"Well…you are." Her gaze could only be summarised as extremely disconcerting. She didn't look angry, quite the opposite, she seemed pleased at how the whole situation was turning out. This only served to make him more conscious of what he said. "For one, you're female…"

"Last time I checked, yes. Your point?"

"…You don't generally see many women fighters around. Also, from what I've seen, you're not that bad, either. That's even stranger, considering you actually managed to find someone willing to train you."

"I didn't. I taught myself."

"But…how?"

"With 3000 odd years to spare, practice really does make perfect."

"I see…Another thing, where do you hail from?" She shrugged.

"I don't know, exactly, my childhood is pretty much a blur. Why?"

"I'm not exactly knowledgeable in the subject, but I have never heard of a race of elves with your colour hair."

"And I have never heard of a human as inquisitive as yourself."

"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend." Yuna felt a certain sense of de-ja-vu approaching.

"There is nothing to forgive, it just struck me as odd that you would be so curious, you seemed to me to be one of the quiet ones." She paused, "And about my hair…well, I guess it's just because…wait a minute, why are we still talking about me? What about _you_?"

"What about me, la…uh, Yunalesca?" He quickly corrected himself after a preview of The Look.

"First of all, my first impression of you? A complete, power-mad oaf. You might want to work on that. Secondly, pass me that water flask, will you? My mouth tastes like something that's been dead since the second age." The sudden change of topic caught him by surprise, and he obediently reached over and handed her the small container. She gulped down at least a pint before wiping her mouth and handing it back. "Thank you. Now, where were we?"

"Oh." Came the old wizard's voice from where he and Frodo stood. "It's that way." He nodded in the general direction of the path leading downwards. Yuna cleared her throat meaningfully.

"He's remembered!" Pippin said happily.

"No," Replied Gandalf. "But the air doesn't smell as foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." She fought against every fibre of her body that yearned to yell out: "_That'll lead him straight back to Aragorn, then!_"

It was now that the numbness of her lower body set in. A vicious attack of pins and needles was on its way if she didn't get up soon. This was, however, slightly more difficult then she'd imagined. Boromir had already risen and looked back to her.

"Boromir, since we've become _such_ fast friends, you wouldn't mind helping a girl up." He chuckled as he grabbed hold of her arm and hoisted her up. He was blessed with one of her rare smiles in return as they followed the company.

They'd stopped again. Even though when last they'd stopped it had given them time to take a short rest, this clearly had not been enough. Although most if not all the group already looked like they'd been through hell and back, it showed up most on the entirely exhausted Hobbits. So, once they'd entered the Great hall, it was decided that they'd camp close to their entrance to try and get some overly needed sleep. What was the point of going on if in the end they died of fatigue? The previously mentioned Hobbits had fallen deep into a sleep where not even the call of a frosty pint with a slight glaze of froth on the top could get them. Gandalf, Boromir and Aragorn had also fallen asleep, knowing that, for all their strength, they would not be able to go on without doing so. Even the Dwarf, who for once had somehow managed to tone down his snoring, had left the waking world. This left the elf to take up a solitary watch for anything that might endeavour to harm the Fellowship. Everything seemed to hold this inaudible secret. It hinted to him from far out into the gloom. Even though the darkness might have somewhat hindered his vision, what the eyes didn't see the ears made up for. There was nothing there. He wondered if there ever would be…

"_Lle__ tyava ta?"_ (You feel it?) The sudden presentation of a voice startled him somewhat. He turned; Yuna sat perched on a slab of rock that had probably fallen some thousand years ago. He had assumed she was asleep just like the others for only moments before she had lain on the cold stone floor. It intrigued him how fast she could move even with her bonds on.

"_Amin__ hiraetha?"_ (I'm sorry?) He replied shortly.

_"Lle tyava ta?"_ (You feel it?) She repeated. Legolas gave her a blank look_. "Shadow, flame, dark whispers, this place is keeping something, veiled in mystery, but there all the same. An evil that is rivalled by few and it is hungry for pain and misery. This place reluctantly holds it, and for now I think that thankfully for us it is still asleep, though for how long only time can tell_." He stared at her, slightly overwhelmed. It was true. All that she was saying he'd felt from the moment that he'd set foot in Moria and still haunted him now. He'd been somewhat reluctant to tell anyone but had told Gandalf nonetheless. All the old wizard had told him was that he knew, and not to worry, this hadn't helped in the slightest. He nodded weakly, not wanting to take any major role in the conversation. She carried on, dismissing this completely. "_It must be hard for you, down here. Stone everywhere, dusty, dark, you must be begging for sunlight and the gentle caress of a summer breeze. It's all so lifeless down here, no animals, birds or trees, not even the barest hint of a shrub. I guess you're doing okay, for an elf_." He said nothing, ignoring her last remark. "_You see, the Dwarves don't mind it, they're made for it really_." She motioned to Gimli with a hint of a smile. The Dwarf was still fast asleep_. "Besides what's a bit of darkness compared to gold, silver and of course mithril? So, they dig, further and further, making their mines and halls, passages that go on for miles. Not caring what exactly it is they've dug themselves into_."

"_Gandalf knows of all this, it is his choice whether or not to acknowledge it, doing so would not be my place._" He ended with some finality.

_"You're going to leave the Fellowship to ruin, just like that_." He didn't bother to respond. She sighed, annoyed. "_You know, stop me if I'm wrong, but this doesn't seem like the real you. In my experience, Princes seem to embody the essence both of cockiness and egotistical greed. You on the other hand, _don't_ seem to love the sound of your own voice, and, I do believe, haven't cracked a smile on the entire journey. Although this makes for a refreshing change, I can't help but doubt it's authenticity._"

"_The reason I haven't '_cracked a smile'_ is because there is nothing to smile about. Why do you analyse everything?"_ The elf shot back, a hint of anger in his otherwise subdued voice.

"_I…"_ Yuna stopped, not knowing how to reply. She desperately searched through her seemingly endless supply of witty comebacks, but found nothing. For, it seemed, one of the first times, she was at a loss for what to say.

_"Before…you, you called me an elf with such disdain, but are you not one yourself?"_ He changed the subject, suspecting that no answer was due to escape her lips any time soon. Yuna, slightly taken aback by the question, responded in a quieter voice.

"_My mother, for the most part.__ But my father…"_ She looked to the floor and let out a barely audible chuckle. "_Was a cowardly Gondorian_."

"_You are half human, then?"_ He reasoned that the subject of her immediate family was not one that she would be willing to discuss freely.

"_I'm impressed._" She said jokingly. "_I know, I know. Half human, half elf, raised by Ents. Strange combination, get over it. It's not a subject you want me to get into so I suggest you leave it at that_."

"_If you don't mind me asking…what's it like?"_

She shrugged. "_I don't know. I can't exactly imagine what being a full elf would be like seeing as I don't have much experience in that particular area. I expect my abilities are somewhat lessened, I probably don't match your superior eyesight or hearing, and I presumably feel he cold a lot more than you would. Other than that, I'm not too sure."_ There was another short pause.

_"How old are you?"_ He asked, unexpectedly.

_"Why would you want to know that? Trying to figure out whether or not you're the oldest _as well_ as the prettiest person in this room_?" He coughed to muffle a chuckle_. "Very well, let's see now…last time I checked I was three thousand and eighty…three…wait, four_."

"_So you apparently still have the immortality of the elves."_

_"Unfortunately, yes."_

_"Why do you say that? Surely it is better than living a short, mortal life."_

_"Eternal life is eternal boredom. Someday you'll learn that immortality gives you nothing to live for."_

A.N. We love reviews, and we'll try to reply to all of them too :D

evenstar: Thanks for your reviews! Don't worry, fluff-fans. We'll get to that soon enough.

Rinoa Heartily: Erm…we have three identical reviews with your name on them…ah well, we're not complaining. And about the whole Merry-Yuna bit, this isn't some strange pervy-hobbit-fancier thing (…possibly…), we just meant it to be a little crush type thing. (Rai: When I was writing that bit, I could visualise Merry taking out a little list of 'things to do before I die' and crossing off 'tie up an older woman')

AngelQueen: Thanks! Wow, everyone's being so nice to us… Moving swiftly on, we're gonna get to the Yuna-Aragorn thing in due course.

Lin-z: Thanks for your time.

Aragorn's bitch: OMB! That's the exact image we had when we were describing her! Weird, huh?

Aztec Sunrise: Your wish is our command, here's the next instalment of wierdness.

Lirin Seawind akaSocial Misfit: We tried to make this as original as possible, and it seems to have worked to an extent…

hunny-bee: Thanks for the reviews. Yes, we stole the name, and for the last freeking time, WE OWN SQUARESOFT! Don't sue. We have lawyers.

Flowerfield: That's what we thought as well. We've changed the summary though, is this one any better?


	13. Darkness

'_I'm sick of the tension, _

_Sick of the hunger, _

_Sick of you acting like I owe you this._

_Find another place to feed your greed while I find a place to rest._

_I wanna be in another place,_

_I hate when you say you don't understand._

_I wanna be with the energy,_

_Not with the enemy,_

_A place for my head._'

A place for my head Linkin park 

Chapter Eight: Darkness

They Company had departed from their spot two hours previous and were now making fast progress on the open ground. Yuna ambled onwards behind Gandalf who had risked a little more light, and now the majority of the Fellowship were staring, awe-struck at the magnificent hall that towered over the ten insignificant figures. Even the prisoner regarded the overbearing stone with some degree of admiration. She hadn't had the privilege to tour this particular area on her last visit to the mines. They were impressive. She never thought she would use the word 'impressive' when referring to something contrived by the Dwarves, but stranger things had happened. They were now nearing what seemed to be some form of exit, when a loud exclamation from the Dwarf drew their attention to a small room to the right hand side of the passage. Immediately, he hurried towards the faint shaft of light, heavy armour and helmet clanking together.

"Gimli!" Shouted Gandalf, before following the stout figure into the room. The rest of the company reluctantly proceeded after him. Loud sobs were clearly audible from the Dwarf, who was on his knees in front of a large stone tomb. Passing him by, an inscription near the head was translated by the wizard. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then, it is as I feared." His gaze fell upon a tattered old book firmly grasped by a decomposing skeleton. Taking off his hat, he passed both it and his staff to the nearest Hobbit, this being Pippin, and reached down to pick it up.

"We must move on, we cannot linger." Said Legolas, the Ranger merely nodded in agreement.

"Listen to the elf, there's something not right here. We have to leave, now." Yunalesca fidgeted with her bonds nervously as she scanned their surroundings yet again. All the senses she had honed for thousands of years were now screaming at her to get out of the Mines as fast as her feet would carry her. She didn't know why she was feeling so tense, but decided it might not be such a good idea to find out. Aragorn seemed to concur, but said nothing as Gandalf began reading from the scruffy book.

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums…drums in the deep." The Fellowship looked about the room riddled with corpses anxiously. The writings in the book did not help to make the place any more inviting. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming." It was at that precise moment that Peregrin decided it would be a brilliant idea to see what would happen if he twiddled an arrow embedded in the ribcage of a fallen warrior. The skull of which took an interesting journey down the conjoining well. The helmet made a resounding clash as it collided with the wall. Yuna muffled a distinctly feminine shriek as she heard it. Her anxiety swelled as the body followed, making even more noise. To top off the small performance, a metal bucket cascaded down the well, a chain slithering after it. The sound echoed about the chasms below, making the culprit cringe in dread. '_And I thought Gimli's snores could wake the dead._' There was a frigid silence as they waited for the aftermath. After a while, Boromir sighed in relief, Gandalf, however, didn't seem too pleased with the display, and shut the book angrily. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Grabbing his hat and staff from the thoroughly fazed Pippin, he turned around and began to walk away when…he stopped. Yuna felt her stomach knot as a reverberating boom rang around the room. This was it; they remained hidden no longer, and whatever it was they were hiding from, was now fully awake.

"We must leave now!" She was slightly alarmed at how shaky her voice sounded, clearing her throat, she continued. "If we don't, the only thing left to greet us will be death." Her voice seemed to go unnoticed as the company looked about them. '_Why won't they listen! There's no way they can take on the entirety of the Moria Orcs! Even if I fight with them, we would not be able to hold them all.'_ If an army of Dwarves couldn't hold against them, what chance did just ten fighters have? The screeches were now distinct from down the hall. '_If this is to be my last fight'_ She decided. '_I might as well make it a good one._' She located an axe that wasn't entirely blunt, and ran her bonds up and down a few times before they were weak enough to break apart. Gandalf and Aragorn looked in her direction briefly, but had more pressing matters to deal with then an escaping prisoner. A flash of blue from the direction of the drawn Sting indicated the culture of their rapidly approaching enemy.

"Orcs!" The elf exclaimed. Boromir hurried to the entrance just in time to see two arrows barely miss his face and embed themselves in the door.

'Too late to run now…' 

"Get back!" Shouted the Ranger, "Stay close to Gandalf!" The Hobbits obediently congregated around the grey wizard.

"They have a Cave Troll." Boromir said ironically, heaving the doors shut whilst being aided by Aragorn. Legolas threw them a long axe to bar he doors with; Yuna grabbed two more and helped them barricade the entrance as best they could. She shook off the few glances she got from her hands being free as she headed towards Pippin. Rummaging around in the startled hobbit's pack for a moment, she eventually came across her crossbow and joined the elf and the human who were both aiming at the doors, there was no time to get any of her more useful close range weapons, but she still had something left up her sleeve. Gandalf and the Hobbits drew their blades, as did Boromir, Gimli was swinging his axe around madly in anticipation.

"How did you—" Aragorn started.

"Never mind." She snapped as Legolas let fly an arrow that found its mark with deadly accuracy.

"This is not your fight." He continued, still staring at the rapidly cracking wooden barrier.

"Then what would you have me do? Stand around and watch you get killed? As appealing as it may sound, I'm not about to let this god-forsaken Earth's only hope get killed in some meaningless battle." The ranger said nothing, but focused on the battle.

A few more arrows were fired, but soon, the doors gave way and the creatures charged through. There were dozens of them pouring through the now open passage, their green skin wrinkled and filthy, their horrifically twisted features, all in all, they looked very much like a kind of imp in a blender. The half-elf released a few bolts, but was forced to reveal a weapon she had so far managed to keep a secret. Frodo looked towards her just in time to see what looked like a set of three long, metal claws, each about a foot in length, intricately carved, rigidly straight, and deadly sharp. He watched, puzzled as she quickly slipped her right hand into what appeared to be a handle or grasp of some sort and thrust it into the nearest Orc and viciously twisting it ninety degrees to make sure the blow was fatal. She yanked it out roughly and brought it around to deal with a creature that had somehow thought it could take off the back of her head. Aiming a roundhouse kick that took out any Goblins within a metre radius, she had to scold herself for enjoying it. This was a fight, and an important one too, one she might very well die in. There were an impossible number of minions swarming around them and only ten fighters to deal with them, four of whom barely knew how to swing a blade.

A small voice in the back of her head told her to stop being so pessimistic and focus on the good side of things. '_Let's see…_' She counted her reasons to be cheerful. They fit on one hand. There was no way she was going to walk out of this alive. No way that the fellowship were going to make it out of the Mines unscathed, if at all. If all that she had heard about the great force that bombarded Moria and overthrew the Dwarves was true, this could very well be the case.

They couldn't win.

The odds were impossible.

'_Just the way I like them._'

Yuna had missed simple hand-to-hand combat, and now was realising just how long it had been since she had a decent workout. The reptilian monstrosities she had met recently were hardly a challenge, and she couldn't help but enjoy the chance to stretch her abilities.

These were just some of the thoughts racing through her head as she light-heartedly put another snivelling Orc out of its misery with a well-marked thrust to the mid-section of its 'face.'

An ear-splitting groan from the entrance confirmed that a Cave Troll was indeed on its way. Another foul Orc dashed into the room, hauling a chain behind him. The abominable creature entered with a loud roar, and was greeted by one of Legolas' arrows. Its hand flew to the new injury, and Yunalesca could see him clearly now. Two black, pig-like eyes were set near the summit of a face that looked as if it had been smashed into a brick wall. '_Probably has._' She reflected. Its skin was a murky grey colour, like a creature kept in the dark too long. Its body was huge and flaccid, with rolls of what she assumed to be fat sagging off it. A huge pot-belly hung over a tiny loincloth that she prayed, to whatever god was listening, stayed on.

Enraged by the way that it had been addressed, the Troll set its sights on Sam, who could only watch as the huge mace was lifted and came crashing down. Instinct gripped him as he sped between the tree-like legs at the last moment, but was quickly replaced by an overwhelming fear as a foot bore down on him. The chain attached to the Troll's iron collar was yanked back in an attempt to save the young Hobbit. Yuna dug her foot into a small crevasse and leaned backwards, putting as much force as she could onto the chain. Boromir did the same. The oversized mace came swinging round and narrowly missed a collision with her head. She looked back up just in time to take in three things. The first was the fact that Boromir had now let go of the chain, the second was that the Cave Troll was now holding the chain, the third was the simple fact that she still held the chain. By the time her brain had processed all this, she was on a collision course with the wall of the tomb. Bracing her muscles for the collision, she impacted on the rough surface and rolled off the small ledge onto the corpse-ridden floor. Composing herself, her gaze shifted to the glinting Orc blade that was heading at a shocking rate for her chest. Suddenly, it was thrown back as a dagger was thrust into it's throat, she turned to it's assailant to see Boromir nod at her before dealing with the new wave of Orcs that had arrived. Stunned, she rose and continued fighting.

Gimli tumbled off Balin's tomb and hurried away as the Troll hacked to pieces his potential opponents. Two arrows were fired somewhere near his upper-body, and its attention was drawn to Legolas. The Elven archer ducked as the great chain swiped at he ledge he was perched on, dodging the shrapnel that seemed to explode from around him. Yuna tore her focus away from this display in order to deal with the number of Orcs that had targeted her. Their numbers seemed to be waning slightly, but this would not last. She was only too aware of the great numbers of Goblins and Orcs that had stormed Moria. The attacks they were receiving now were a tiny fraction of what was yet to come.

The steel claw was dripping with the blackened blood of the Orcs; this worsened as it took out a Goblin by re-arranging its face. Another method of course was to thrust it into some unsuspecting victim's chest and as they hung there in complete shock send a bolt hurtling to a point directly between their eyes. Brutality was a way of life if you still wanted to keep yours in situations such as these. Elbowing another attacker in what she assumed to be the gut, she brought her gauntlet arm round to knock it senseless with the aid of a clenched fist. A leg was thrust around in a drop kick as she sank to the ground to avoid a twisted Goblin scimitar that swiped overhead. The beast fell to the ground, and was joined by another that endured a powerful uppercut followed by an elbow to the head.

It wasn't long before many of the Orcs in her side of the room found a home on the floor with either a boot mark or three deep gashes streaking across their face. She turned to see Merry and Pippin backing into a corner, yelling battle-cries as they lunged at their enemies. But there were too many of them. Boromir had noticed too, but had problems on his own. Backhanding her current opponent in frustration, she made a hasty calculation in her clouded head, unsheathed a small but lethal dagger from a strap around her boot, and hurled it in the direction of the Orc they didn't see. It slumped down just as Merry heard it coming and jumped back suddenly as its blade came within an inch of his throat.

Before long, she heard Frodo call to Aragorn in distress as the huge beast attacked him. The ranger lay unconscious next to him. Before she could react, the huge pike had rammed into the Hobbit's chest. That was it. He was gone. The only chance of the quest succeeding had shattered before their eyes. She watched as the various members of the Fellowship hacked away at the Cave Troll, trying to take it down as soon as possible. Making another split-second decision, she sprinted forward and vaulted onto its back, bringing back her right arm and repeatedly stabbing the creature in the neck. This wasn't such a smart move, she reflected later on, as most living things don't tend to enjoy that sort of treatment. Legolas fired an arrow directly into what she assumed was it's jugular. Its groans resounded around the hall, and with its last ounce of strength, the Troll grabbed her billowing cloak, and flung her to one side like a rag doll, tearing the robe off in the process and leaving only the remains of a hood. She rammed against a small pile of stone and curled like a hedgehog into a protective ball as a few large rocks closed her in.

The last time she had been in this particular situation, there were two large slabs covering her that served as an all-too convenient tent structure so she wasn't crushed into a bloody paste. This time, however, she had not been so lucky. Shielding her face with her arms, she risked opening an eye. The only thing that was keeping her from being mashed into said bloody paste was the fact that the entirety of her bodily strength was focused on her legs that were pressed against her abdomen and forcing the sizeable boulder above her as far away from her as possible. At the time being, this was about an inch.

Yunalesca could hear the chaos outside. Frodo had been hurt. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her when another thought seized her mind. What if he had been killed? If that were indeed the case, she would have to live with the fact that she could have saved him if only she hadn't acted so irrationally. What was she thinking? Of course Frodo had been killed. She saw the spear lunge into his chest. Nothing could have survived that. Her attention drifted to the potential earthquake caused when the Cave Troll presumably met its demise. They had won, but what about the Ring-bearer? She felt instantly relieved as his gasps reached her ears. Now she was more focused on getting herself out. Gathering up all the strength her aching limbs could relay, she positioned her arms and heaved…

Boromir, along with the rest of the company, sighed in contentment as Frodo spoke. His attention drifted from the luckiest Hobbit in Middle-Earth to the rest of the Fellowship. The Shire folk were crowded around Frodo, as were Aragorn and Gandalf. Gimli stood menacingly beside Legolas, whose sober face remained expressionless.

"Where's Yunalesca?" He asked to the group that was clustered around the fallen pillar. Nine pairs of eyes momentarily scanned the room for any trace of their prisoner.

"There." Stated the elf after a while, looking intently at a colossal boulder that somehow appeared to be moving. Following a muffled yet colourful display of course and unimaginative language that would have made a marine blush (during which, Sam felt a strong desire to cover his master's ears), the rock was dislodged and forced off. Yuna slowly got out of the small hole looking like an intoxicated feline and stumbled a few feet before picking her head up and glaring at the nine whilst trying to look as composed as possible. Which was difficult considering she was scratched and bleeding in places and her hair looked as if she'd been dragged through a hay field backwards. Her cloak had been ripped off at the neck, and the clasp was all that was left along with the hood and a small amount of material from the garment itself. Either she hadn't noticed this yet, or she just didn't care. Probably the latter.

"_Fine_. Don't help." Came the accusing sentence. She would have said more, but the rapidly approaching assortment of Orcs and Goblins made her decide against it.

"Quickly, we have no time for this, we must hurry on." Aragorn interjected. She said nothing, but instead opted to give him a sweet, sad look, the sort that's worth a million of the sort of words usually followed by _off._

Following the old wizard's command, they made for the bridge of Kazad-dûm.

A.N. Reviews:

Lirin Seawind aka Social Misfit: Thank you, we like messing with people's minds. (Rai: grins I _said_ people would like my weird psychology bits!)

Choccy-bo: …eyes cautiously Final Fantasy fan, aren't you? Well thank you, that is a huge compliment…sorta….we've seen the work out there so its not that surprising…..ok, we're getting big-headed, stop it!

Linawen: Linawen, Linawen, Linawen….hun, you're scary, I mean, we're scary, but you're _scary_. Thanks for the reviews, that's why we love you , and here's chapter eight for your viewing…er, reading pleasure (…?).

Rinoa Heartly: We're just a frickin' magnet for FF fans, aren't we? Not that we don't absolutely and completely love and adore the games and plan to take over Squaresoft when we're old enough to have an evil empire of our very own takes breath but enough of that. Keep up the good work, babe!


	14. Musings

_'…Nothing valued think no fear,  
Always wondering why you're here,  
All your purposes are gone, _

_Nothing's right and nothing's wrong,  
Nothing ventured, nothing gained,  
Feel no sorrow, feel no pain,  
Kiss me while I'm still alive,  
Kill me while I kiss the sky,  
Let me die on my own terms,  
Let me live and let me learn,  
Now I'll follow my own way, _

_And I'll live on to another damn day,   
Freedom carries sacrifice,  
Remember when this was my life…'_

_"Life On My Own" 3 Doors Down_

Chapter eleven: Musings

After their entourage had escorted them to a nearby trio of_ talans_, the various group members had found a spot on the wooden floor and claimed it for their own. The hobbits, for their part, seemed to be more worried about how high up they were than their present situation. Frodo gazed at nothing in particular as he contemplated what the next few months would be like without Gandalf. The Ringbearer's thoughts were a mystery to his faithful companions as they sat dotted about the makeshift lodgings. The air around the forest was strange, thick and oddly humid with the dense blanket of mist that hung about the treetops. Small points of light glimmered in the distance, rays of moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees; even the trees radiated a sort of ethereal glow.

_"'Tis almost like the great city of __Rivendell__ in it's beauty." Boromir had commented earlier._

_"It is no city." Yuna replied._

_"What do you mean?" _

_"It is a house."_

_"A house?__ But…it is surely too large to be just a single house."_

_"It may be a particularly large house, but a house it is. And Elrond, contrary to popular human belief, is not a King. He is a Lord. That is why they call him _Lord_ Elrond, and not '_Your Majesty_' or other equally meaningless formalities. Besides, Kings have countries, not houses, to rule." Boromir simply furrowed his brow a little. "Don't tell me you thought otherwise."_

_"No, no, of course not…" He trailed off, slightly confused."_

Yunalesca was bored. Her muscles had ached from the long walk, but now she was starting to wish for any kind of movement, as her legs had become strangely numb. The constant sitting still and waiting for morning was dragging on like a double Geography lesson, and she was beginning to ponder disturbingly strange topics, such as: if Dwarvish women had beards, did they also had hairy chests and the rest of it? Shifting uncomfortably and shuddering at the thought, she glanced around the rather crowded _talan_, Aragorn and Haldir were talking quietly in Elvish to one side. Her ears picked up the entire conversation, but she paid no heed to it. Sighing softly, she brought a partially gloved hand over her rather untidy bun, inwardly cringing at the horrendous condition of her hair. Not being able to wash properly for a good two months had certainly taken its toll.

'_Of course,'_ She thought, glancing at the Prince of Greenwood the Great. '_He still smells faintly of lilies and honeysuckle, even after being in exactly the same conditions as _them_.'_ Her gaze drifted to the Dwarf and the Gondorian, as well as Aragorn as he stood, engrossed in his heated debate with Haldir. Humans, she surmised, attracted dust and filth like a prized DVD. It seemed to stick to them, and make their sweat glands work overtime. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she caught her own less-than-bearable odour. _Forget this_. _I need a wash_.' Since she had left Rivendell, the most she had done was wash her hands and face whenever she got a chance. The company didn't look as if they were planing on moving until the morning, and it wasn't as if she would get any sleep where she was, so she took advantage of the situation.

Boromir's head whipped up from yet another attempt at sleep as he heard Yuna rise from her spot. Adjusting her slightly crinkled outfit a little, she wasted no time in heading straight for the small rope ladder situated near the centre of the wooden platform.

"Where are you going?" The slightly edgy question that originated from the Ranger's lips only served to silence any hopes of a conversation between members and draw the attention to the strangely-garbed woman.

"If you must know, I simply felt that if I'm not going to do anything useful here, I might as well clean myself up. Besides," Her eyes rested on Legolas for a while, _'Amin holma ve' edan.' _(I smell like a human) she added in Elvish to spare any aforementioned men that might be listening. She turned to the ladder once more, a triumphant spark in her eyes as she noticed the slight quirk at the corner of both Legolas and Haldir's lips.

"Be careful." Aragorn added, ignoring her comment. "Orcs are still around this area. Scouts are on the lookout, but be prepared nonetheless"

_"Manka ai'nat' veryaya a'waane amin, ta caeluva amin a'gorguva."__ (If anything dares to disturb me, they will have me to fear) _And with that her head disappeared from view. Although Boromir hadn't the slightest idea of what had just been said, he got the impression it wasn't thanks for the Ranger's concern. Elves, he decided, were strange creatures. Their personalities were too deep and hidden to be fathomed by mere humans. They always made sure their face remained entirely expressionless, not revealing any of their seldom-felt emotions. The elf in their party was no different, the most he could recall hearing from the blonde archer's lips was a sentence at the most. And even that was stretching it.

His thoughts shifted to their silver-haired companion. She didn't seem to care who knew what she was thinking. Her face and eyes showed how she felt as much as any humans, if she let it. He had wondered why she seemed so different, but put it down to his altogether limited knowledge of elves. He had, on occasion, heard Aragorn or Legolas refer to her as _'i'peredhil'_ (the half-elf), whatever that meant. Perhaps that had something to do with it? He pondered this for a moment, but the trail of thought was soon cropped off short as sleep claimed him.

Yunalesca was also pondering various things as she walked briskly through the trees. She had caught the look in Aragorn's eyes as she left the crowded _talan_. Instead of the usual annoyance mingled with mild anger she had come to expect, there was something else. Mirth, maybe? She had never meant it as a straight insult, just something to lighten the mood a little. The tension that had been built up between them could have been cut with a knife, or, in this case, a simple remark. True, she had forgiven him for the…incident a number of years ago, but that didn't mean she was willing to offer her friendship. '_Although, perhaps that will change in due course.'_ For a long time, her opinion of the man was that he was no more than a disillusioned human, convinced that he could ignore his destiny as long as he wished, live his life as an unwashed ranger, and yet still have the nerve to act as if he was better than those around him. But now…

Now her opinion had risen slightly. He was still willing to live his life as an unwashed ranger, but he seemed to hold a sort of respect for most things. As well as that, he had also proven himself able in the past few weeks. He was even trying to be civil to her, something she thought impossible for most of those she had crossed before. True, most she had crossed before were now unable to breathe or move, much less be civil, but that was an entirely different matter. Many held him in high regard, and were usually those that know him many times better than she. Among those was Elrond Halfelven, his judgement meant a lot to her. If he trusted Isildur's heir that much, then maybe, just maybe…

_'And another thing, why did he even bother to warn me about the Orcs?' _She thought, confused_. 'It's not as if I'm a member of this 'Fellowship' of Elrond's. I'm just tagging along until we get to Lórien.' _But wasn't she supposed to be their prisoner? She vaguely remembered being tied up and led along almost as if she was unable to escape at any given moment. Truth be told, she was now glad to have come along. No matter how she might have felt previously. When she returned to Fangorn, she would do so with her mind partially at ease.

Yuna switched her concentration to the miniature creek brimming with the waters of Nimrodel before her. Casually stripping down to a thin shift tied low about her waist in which a small knife was haphazardly thrust, she ventured into the centre of the small pool, which was surprisingly deep for something so little. She waded slowly through the hip-high water, not thinking about anything in particular. She noticed the slightly blood-soaked cloth still adorning her right arm and couldn't stop herself from smiling slightly. It had healed up remarkably well. The wound had closed well, and though it didn't look amazing, it felt a lot better. That was another thing to think about. Why had Aragorn helped her? She could remember his words clearly as he attempted to explain himself…

_"For once just let someone help you. We have had our differences in the past, that I can not deny, but it does not have to remain so…You proved yourself in the mines and although it seems I have yet to fully prove myself to you, the least we could do is try to get along…I have no desire to see you die due to obstinacy."_

Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps he did want to be civil. Perhaps he just wanted to put the past behind them both…

Her hands went to the bun that was almost falling apart, and with the slight yank of a leather strap, it fell apart and trailed down her bare back in a loose braid. She brought this around to her front, and, humming something even she didn't recognise, undid it with very little effort. Her hair now reached the water's surface and a few inches beyond as it tumbled down in a tangled mess. Throwing the strap of oddly decorated leather in the general direction of a crumpled pile of clothes, she set about cleansing her dirt-encrusted skin.

"_yrch__!"_ Hissed a blonde head in Sindarin as he popped above the wooden platform for the best part of a second.

"The Orcs are upon us, at last." Haldir said quietly. "Do not fear, little ones." He added, noting the Hobbit's apprehensive faces. "We are more than able to deal with the foul creatures."

"And what about Yunalesca?" Pippin asked, his Shire accent shining through as he absentmindedly scanning the forest floor below, "Isn't she still out there?"

"I am sure she is more than able to take care of herself." Haldir replied, having first-hand experience of just how well she was able to hold her own.

"But she would be off-guard. What if she is unable to defend herself?" Boromir had woken once more, and surprised a few with his argument.

"I'm sure that would not happen." Aragorn shot back. "Besides, what would you have us do?"

"At the very least she should be warned of their presence."

"If she does not already know."

"Even so, she has helped us before, it is only right we do the same for her now." The man from Gondor persisted. Eventually, Aragorn sighed in defeat.

"If it is your wish to do so, you may track her down and warn her of the Orcs, but be prepared to face them yourself."

Boromir nodded as he rose, turning to leave just before he felt a slim hand on his shoulder.

"If you are to venture into the forest, might I suggest sending someone whom actually has some hope of finding their way back?" Haldir's voice was completely level, not in the least insulting, simply stating a fact.

"In that case, whom would you suggest? I'd hate to pull away one of your elves for something so trivial."

"I will go." The company turned to the Prince perched some distance from them. "I will get no rest tonight, and I still greatly desire to see more of the wood before we leave tomorrow." Boromir simply nodded. It was, after all, the logical choice. He could find his way there and back easily and quickly enough, and he could avoid the Orcs better than any of them. With that established, he adjusted the strap of his quiver slightly, before disappearing bellow the _talan_ surface.

'_Who was she?' _That thought had plagued his mind time and time again as he struggled to regain control of his memory. She was…familiar somehow. And yet, he was sure one like her would not be forgotten easily. In all probability, he had more than likely seen her passing through Greenwood the Great at one time or another…he couldn't remember. He couldn't really care less either, but he had to try.

"_You know, stop me if I'm wrong, but this doesn't seem like the real you. In my experience, Princes seem to embody the essence both of cockiness and egotistical greed. You on the other hand, _don't_ seem to love the sound of your own voice, and, I do believe, haven't cracked a smile on the entire journey. Although this makes for a refreshing change, I can't help but doubt it's authenticity._"

That conversation, however brief it had been, spoke volumes about her attitude toward the world in general. He hadn't realised the façade he had kept up throughout the journey until she had told him of it. And it was only now that he realised – much to his surprise – that she was right, every word. He had to hand it to her; she was a discerning woman if ever he met one. It was even more disconcerting that she had managed to determine so much about him in such a small time.

_"Eternal life is eternal boredom. Someday you'll learn that immortality gives you nothing to live for."_

_That_ had made him think more than anything she had said. He had always looked upon his immortality as a gift, not something '_Unfortunate_' as she had put it. Why did she feel this way, he wondered.

However…

After a life as long as hers, he could understand a wish for something other than the same daily routine. After all, the beauty of the Sunrise dims after a lifetime spent watching the same golden orb awake every morning. But did she really wish to have the short and almost painful life of an ordinary human?

That was something he couldn't fathom. How could anyone wish for that? His thoughts turned to Lord Elrond's brother, Elros. A half-elf like the Lord of Rivendell himself. Like Yunalesca. They had both chosen immortality, but Elros had chosen a mortal life. If she found her immortality so unfortunate, why did she not simply choose to live as a human? Or better yet, sail to the Undying lands and live out her days there? He would ask her later, he decided, as he followed the crystal waters of Nimrodel in hope of locating the half-elf that had tormented his thoughts.

'_Orcs…'_ She had been fully aware of their presence a while beforehand, but had only registered it as something that might require her attention a few seconds ago. '_Never mind, I'll have enough notice to be prepared if they decide to attack me.'_ The loathsome creatures of Mordor were slightly less stealthy than a heard of Oliphants being ridden by Dwarves, and she wondered how they could ever surprise anyone, anywhere, ever. '_They will soon be taken care of in any case.'_ She wasn't about to let anything – not even the possibility of her bloody death – interrupt her first real wash in weeks.

He heard the soft sound of water being disturbed mildly in the distance as the river widened out slightly into a small estuary. His eyes rested briefly on the ripples gently caressing the bank and travelled upwards to see the cause. A small beacon of silver protruded slightly from the water's edge. This morphed into a head and finally the upper-half of the very same she-elf as she broke the surface, throwing her head back and allowing the mane of darkened hair to whip around in an overly dramatic movement. He froze. Her back was facing him, and she carried on, seemingly unaware of his presence as she shook out her roughly tangled hair behind her. It had dimmed to a light grey with the water and was dripping with moisture as it hung loosely about her bare back. Suddenly, she spun herself round to meet his gaze.

His face was a picture, painted by an artist with a very strange sense of humour.

He looked like a very small hedgehog caught in the impending doom of a sixteen-wheeler.

For an elf, he looked surprisingly…well…surprised.

"How long have _you_ been standing there?" She wasn't angry, strange, she didn't even seem in the least embarrassed about the fact that she was currently flashing her entire top half to the Prince of Mirkwood. Instead, she seemed almost…was that mirth dancing in her eyes as the elf looked on, dumbfounded?

"I…I...I'm sorry!" He said, quickly turning around and shielding his eyes. She laughed in response.

"More to the point, what are you doing _here_?" Her arms folded over her chest in an entirely unselfconscious move.

"I…came to warn you…of the Orcs in the woods." Another oddity, why exactly was he stumbling over his sentences? For one of the first instances in a good millennia, words failed him.

"Oh…why? Aren't I old enough to look after myself?" She sounded genuinely surprised, but masked it well.

"The Humans said–"

"Ah, the Humans, never mind in that case. My thanks to you for warning me. I had best be getting back soon in any case."

He heard her move quietly out of the water to the discarded pile of clothes a few metres behind him and scolded himself for the un-princely thoughts that ran through his head.

"I shall take my leave to give you some privacy." He said, struggling to keep his voice as level and as normal as possible. She laughed slightly '_She saw right through that…_' and with that he did, indeed, take his leave, walking briskly until he was out of sight and then moving quickly back to the _talan_, hoping not to have to face her at any point in the near future.

'_What's wrong with them?'_ The woman thought as she critically examined her bare chest. _'They're not _that_ bad.'_ Her human side had left her with a rather buxom figure as oppose to the stick-insect like non-existent curves of the elves. Her front was slightly better rounded in comparison to many of those she had met, and he hips and backside followed suite. The Elven beauties held a waif yet graceful air about them. Every one of them were stunning. Their eyes endless pools of shimmering colour, sorrowful and far away, their faces milky white and glowing with perfectly set features. Her thoughts flew to the Evenstar. It has been said that beauty was only skin-deep, but this was not so for Arwen, she was just as kind, courteous and loveable as she looked. Beauty is only skin deep. Bah. Sadly untrue. Yuna, for one, was tired of all the assumptions about beauty being only skin-deep. That was deep enough in her critical opinion. What did people want, an adorable pancreas? She sighed and steered her thoughts back to what had just occurred.

'_It must have shocked him a little, I presume_.' Some elves weren't as comfortable with the idea of nudity as others were. _'I suppose his father keeps him in a little box. Maybe that's why there were so many new and interesting shades of red colouring his face.'_ Either way she was anticipating getting back to the flet, just to see how long he could avoid eye contact with her. It was with this rather sadistically humorous thought that she made her way back to the _talan_, wringing out her dripping wet mane as she went.

It was about two minutes after Legolas had returned – looking slightly flushed, and still holding a reddish tinge about the points of his ears – that Yuna had climbed up the ladder with the efficiency of one that has spent far too much time in the company of trees. Legolas immediately tried to make himself scarce, hoping she wouldn't talk to him. After he heard her take a seat, he risked a glance in her general direction, glad for the fact her attention was diverted elsewhere.

Her hair was still wet and was clumped together in a slack braid and grouped into the messiest of buns. Her clothes appeared slightly damp in some places, but for the most part remained dry. She had kept her armour off and only wore the dark green top and brown leather leggings, which was strange considering the fact that she was well aware of the Orcs strewn about the forest.

Perhaps her human side had made her careless? No, he knew that couldn't be right, but the thought led onto an entirely different musing…

She was a Half-Elf.

They were few and far between as far as he knew, and only a fraction of those gained the Valar's gift of immortality, some were even rare enough to have the gift without even asking. He wondered how she had got to be immortal. If she was so set on heading into the West, and found her endless years boring and pointless…why did she not simply choose a mortal life long ago? He added it to the list.

It was early the next morning when the company was roused. Well, the Hobbits and the Dwarf anyway. As she noticed their still downcast faces, Yunalesca cursed herself for being so disrespectful the previous night. Respect was not usually one of her more avidly displayed traits, but she knew all too well the pain of loss, and berated herself further for being so careless. She mentally lowered her mood in accordance to how the rest of the company was feeling. She was one of the only travellers whom did not know Mithrandir personally, and so it was hard for her to feel too much grief after his passing.

As Yuna marched onwards, gaze firmly set on the ground, she failed to notice the company grind to a halt, sending her straight into the nearest person.

Legolas whipped around as the woman walked into his back, he tensed upon realising it was her. She grinned, sensing his discomfort, and dodged around him to see what the problem was.

Apparently, the Dwarf was strictly forbidden to pass any further without a blindfold. '_Stupid High Elves'_ she thought, '_What's he going to do to their precious mallorn trees? Look at them? Oh, no, we can't have that. A Dwarf looking at our mallorn trees? Preposterous! And yet, it's no trouble for him to look upon the Lady of Light herself…how strange…'_

She wasn't really paying attention to the argument that broke out, but snapped back into reality when a young elf approached her cautiously with a blindfold. A few seconds passed.

"Can I help you?" She asked incredulously.

"Your eyes must be blinded, my Lady." Came the less-than-confident reply.

"Is that so? And why exactly should I?"

"It is the leader of the company's wish that the entire fellowship have their eyes blinded."

"That's nice. And why are you coming to me? Since when am I a member of this Fellowship? In fact, I seem to remember being a prisoner of some sorts…never mind. Rest assured I am not, and never have been, counted as a member of this company. Therefore, their leader bears no authority over me whatsoever. Run along, good sir, and trouble me no longer."

The elf – he couldn't have been more than a few hundred years – looked to his leader to support. Haldir gave her a much-practised version of The Look.

"_Amin__ cael sinome nir' coiasiras n'ala, Haldir, amin il'ksh a'itaur, naamin?"_ _I have been here many times before, Haldir, I'm not exactly a danger to the wood, am I? _With a slight roll of his eyes, the captain of the guard signalled his yield with a wave of his hand.

And that was that.

A few glances were thrown her way over her lack of blindfold, but she ignored them with a finely-tuned state of 'I-don't-really-care-because-it's-you-not-me-so-_auta-miqula-orqu' Go kiss an Orc._ She was right though, and the fact that she knew this, and everyone else knew this but was still angry only made it all the more sweeter. She, a member of the fellowship. Ha! It wasn't like this a couple of centuries ago, back then children _respected_ their elders. They didn't make silly assumptions like that. She laughed at herself, realising she was, indeed, growing old, too old to act as she did sometimes. But then she thought of Glorfindel, and such convictions were immediately forgotten.

For the following long hours, Yunalesca found a new source of entertainment in the soft curses escaping to company's lips as they stumbled upon a stray root or the thick underbrush.

A.N.

In response to some of the reviewers:

**Who is the love interest?** If this chapter doesn't act as a neon sign, we're afraid you'll just have to wait. (BTW, Boromir dies – i.e. It's not him – (whilst being an honourable non-rapist-like bloke – we thought about approaching a different point of view and _not_ making him a bastard!), Aragorn loves Arwen, Eomer stole Legolas's hairstyle, Gandalf's old, Gimli's ugly, and Frodo and Sam are full of **_plactonic_****_, brotherly_**love for each other.)

**Why is Yunalesca such a Mary-Sue?** She's not supposed to be, the name doesn't mean anything (the closest translation is _yulna_ which means _a drink_. 0o) we stole it off a Final Fantasy game. The scar is just to show she's not perfect and also has some relevance later on. The white/silver hair and bright green eyes will be a pretty big plot point later on. Her outfit was made up on some drunken Sunday when we had nothing better to do, much like a majority of the storyline…

**What is the Aragorn thing?** You'll find out soon enough.

**How do you pronounce character's names?** It doesn't really matter, and just to push it even further, we'll introduce more Canon-shattering original characters later on in the story.

**Why are we such review-whores?** Because reviews are nice and make you feel all warm, fuzzy and make you want to write more. Except flames, mindless flames will be used to cook a full-fat English breakfast to feed our muses.


	15. Farewells

'…_I've put my trust in you,_

_Pushed as far as I can go._

_For all this there's only one thing you should know._

_I tried so hard and got so far,_

_But in the end it doesn't even matter._

_I had to fall to lose it all,_

_And in the end it doesn't even matter…._'

In The End Linkin Park 

Chapter Twelve Farewells

It was impossible to determine when exactly it was that the Fellowship trudged into Lorien, Yuna trailing nonchalantly behind. Their blindfolds had been since removed, and the Hobbits in particular gazed around the vision that was Caras Galadhon. As they entered the city, gazing round at the overbearing mallorn trees littered around. Faint points of light glittered in the distance, a strange sort of misty haze hung about the place, the light coming down in tinted shifts through the canopy of leaves. Those fortunate enough to be allowed within the heavily protected boarders of the city would have noticed the distinct change in the air. It was misty, yet not entirely humid, thick with some kind of indiscernible magical presence. This was Lothlorien, home of the High Elves. Yunalesca absentmindedly remembered the first time she had visited the city, she had been slightly in awe of it all, but she was young then, and had long since got over the splendour and mystery the wood embodied.

In a way it was strange to see others admiring so vehemently something she had always taken for granted. To her the city seemed to have lost something of itself since those days long past. She remembered the years following Sauron's supposed demise. There was a sense of hope, hope that a time of peace had finally come after all the bloodshed that had taken place over the past few millennia and would never again come to so dire a stage. Hope that there was still some place for immortals in this rapidly changing world. Hope that their city would not so promptly fall to ruin. Now that constant splendour seemed tarnished. It was obvious if you looked into the eyes of any inhabitant that crossed the path of the party that it would only be a matter of months, maybe a year, before they would be forced to travel to the undying lands. Leaving their cherished home, their fantasia to wither and decay.

They carried along a path about a metre and a half wide that seemed to be winding up to the centre of the city where a group of lofty trees stood firmly placed. Yuna knew exactly where they were headed. She had been there before a lifetime ago; she had no desire to go back. Minutes later and the company were assembled at the foot of a staircase that spiralled gently up to what seemed only the top of an immense hulk of a tree but what she knew was far more.

Taking this as an unspoken queue to take her leave, Yunalesca discreetly wandered to one of the side paths as the Fellowship were being informed of the Lady's desire to see them. She stopped short as she felt a disturbingly familiar hand on her shoulder; she spun around to see Haldir looking at her with a strange intensity in his gaze.

"The Lady has requested that all in the Fellowship be taken to see her." She gave him a small taster of The Look™. The fact that he suggested she was part of the Fellowship when he should have know her better by now was just typical.

"Why my dear, sweet Haldie, I would have you know that it was merely by unfortunate circumstances that myself and this band of…fine folk were thrown together." She paused for a moment, noticing a few of the others, including the Ranger, looking in their direction. "So you see, I really have no place up there. Now, if you will excuse me." Yunalesca finished trying to make a move forward.

"Nonetheless you must come with us." He stopped her before she had any real chance to start. "If the Lady says there is no need for you to stay then you are free to leave. But until then you must remain with your companions." She sighed; it was ridiculous enough that she was being counted as one of them but the fact that she was being bossed round by some blond bimbo just helped to add insult to injury.

"As you wish, my Lord." She said with as much mock courtesy as she could muster. They left the lush patch of blossoming trees they had been stood under and started up the steps in single file. Yuna kept to the back, determined on making as little an entrance as possible. It wasn't that she feared Galadriel, no, nothing of the sort. She just didn't like her manner. To Yuna it seemed she tried and make everyone seem as small and insignificant as possible. Like they were nothing compared to the utter majesty of the Lady of Light. She knew every dark little secret the world had to hold and they were oblivious everything but the local town gossip, which mostly consisted of Godfrey and his unusual sheep. Celeborn was a different matter. He didn't exactly break the mould and always somehow seemed to be in his wife's overbearing shadow, but at least it was possible to hold a decent conversation without drifting onto the subject of 'immanent doom' and the elves 'untimely demise'. They did however keep to formalities; he was the Lord and therefor should hold more power then his wife. Though with the power Galadriel held on her finger, it was clear to most who really held steed over the other.

It seemed all to soon that they were nearing the end of their upward assent. Yuna tried to clear her head, already well accustomed to the Lady's special gifts. She only wished she had some of her own to give Galadriel a little taste of her own medicine and see what it was like to be stripped bare. The stairway was opening out now, onto a platform that was held high above the ground below and tangled in the thick branches of a mallorn tree. As each set foot onto the platform they seemed to be cleansed by a wave of tranquillity that transcend both time and space and yet was held there now. Waiting attendants motioned to where they should stand in readiness for the Lord and Lady and assured them that they would not be long. Yuna decided to stand slightly off to the side. It was obvious she wouldn't get out of this completely unscathed but she wanted as little attention drawn to her as was possible. Within moments of their arrival to the world high above, the only set of doors leading out onto the platform slowly crept open. Light spilled out from the room beyond but more importantly two figures slowly started to appear in the space between. The Hobbits stared awed at the unfolding scene, mouths hanging slightly agape. Yuna studied each member of the Fellowship and in doing so caught a fleeting look from Boromir who looked less then pleased with the situation. She was slightly surprised, what did the Gondorian have to fear? It wasn't like she was that naïve, she had noticed the effect the Ring was having over him but was it to such an extent that he should be in fear of the Lady of Light?

The couple had now entered with enough grace as was required and proceeded down few steps that led from the doors. Yuna sighed inwardly. There she was, as remarkable and delicately beautiful as ever and of course being lightly led by her loving husband who stood steadfast by her side. It was a perfect picture of Elven grandeur to put on display to the outside world. Celeborn spoke first, something about Gandalf and only eight of the Fellowship making it to Lorien. It might not be much of a surprise to find that Yuna did not pay much heed to the rather one-sided conversation that was going on. In truth, she didn't really think it her business to get involved with. As far as she was concerned she'd done the rather loose job that had been assigned to her. It wasn't that she had any great deal more faith in the Fellowship then before, but what could she do? Going any further with them would just be a waste of any kind of time she still held.

Time seemed to slip by. Something about the quest being on a knife-edge and it's ruin. Yuna slipped in and out of blissful ignorance until the audience was over. The Fellowship slowly filed out, seeming slightly dazed and once again sorrowful with the remembrance of Gandalf's fall into darkness. The half-elf let them pass respectfully and then proceeded along after.

'_Why are you so quick to leave? You have said nothing throughout the time you have been here. One would think you have been struck dumb, for one with so much to say…'_ The Lady's hollow voice echoed about the crowded causeways of her mind. She stopped instantly and turned on her heel, matching Galadriel's penetrating gaze.

"What have I to say that you do not already know?" She retorted out loud, drawing short glances from those around her. "That the Fellowship will fail? That not just the Elves, but the entirety of the Free Races are doomed? That this entire quest is folly–"

"In your eyes, perhaps. Yet many prefer to take a far less pessimistic view." The Lady's voice was, as usual, perfectly level, not a hint of any emotion that might betray her true intentions. A weary sigh escaped Yuna's lips.

"But this isn't just about the Fellowship, is it?" It was a statement, not a question.

"Tell me, my Lady Yunalesca, why are you here? Why was it that you chose to become an accessory to something so…trivial, at least in your opinion."

"It was a favour. To one of the only people in this God-forsaken land that might possibly understand me." A single golden eyebrow was raised about half a centimetre. "Besides, unfortunately for me, I'm not heartless enough to stand by and watch while the entirety of Middle-Earth is overrun by a some madman with a passion for tacky gold jewellery." A perfectly formed rosy lip curved upwards at the uncouth remark. Galadriel gave a quick glance to her smiling counterpart, whose lips immediately formed a tight line across his irritatingly flawless skin.

"Why are you so unwilling to trust others to take care of what has been asked of them?" There was a pause.

"I come to Rivendell fully aware of the problem at hand. I speak to Lord Elrond, who somehow convinces me to attend this council of his. When I get there, all I see are fully-grown men who cannot seem to agree with each other on anything, much less the fate of Middle-Earth. Not only are they letting issues so insignificant as race getting between their decisions, but even those of the same heritage are fighting. And then, amidst all of this, a hairy-footed creature barely reaching my waist offers to take the pure, unadulterated incarnation of evil to the Mountain of Fire. With him goes three of his little Hobbit companions and an arrogant Dwarf whom is only participating to show up a certain princely Elf who is also accompanying them. Then, along go the heir to the throne of Gondor, and the son of the Steward, to tell the truth I was surprised they haven't been at each others throats all through the journey." She paused again in her miniature speech, getting a strange feeling of de ja vu. "I'm sure you can excuse me for being a little untrusting."

"And to quell your doubt, you decide to stalk them in hope of convincing yourself that they are trustworthy?"

"In short, yes."

"And? What is it you have found?"

"They might have been able to accomplish the task set before them, with the Valar's blessing." Sparing the Lady from voicing her next question, she continued. "Though, without Gandalf, I am loath to say the same."

"His falling into shadow does not seem to trouble you as much…"

"As cold-blooded as it may seem, I cannot mourn for one I did not know." She was starting to feel slightly uneasy at the sudden change in topic. There was yet another pregnant pause.

"And what will you do now?" The Lady asked after a while. Yuna hoped this was her way of dragging the conversation to an end at last.

"Return to Fangorn. I came to deliver a simple message to Lord Elrond with every intention of returning to the only place I can call home afterward. I was merely…delayed."

"You will not continue with them?" She already knew the answer, but Yuna replied anyway.

"No, I have no need to. I am not, and never was, a member of the Fellowship. Nor do I wish to continue any further than is necessary." A monosyllabic 'hm' was the only answer given. And with that, she nodded and turned to leave.

"_Namaarie,_ Yunalesca, we shall not meet again." And it was on this solemn note that their brief discussion ended, and Yuna descended the Great Mallorn to the ground bellow.

Not ready to leave the borders of Lorien just yet, Yuna found her way to where the various members of the Fellowship had settled for the night. She noticed a slight hint of Rosemary clinging to the air. '_Remembrance_' she thought to herself. Songs of lament for Mithrandir accompanied the fragrance, serving to make the setting seem all the more morbid. They were soft, sung in fair Elvish voices that hit every note and pitch with perfect precision. The current one was a song sang for those who have fallen valiantly in battle and entered into the halls of Mandos. It didn't seem to quite fit Gandalf somehow. To her knowledge he did posses most if not all the attributes it mentioned and yet it just wasn't his…style. She noted most of the members of the party somewhere inside the slight enclosure that had been leant to them. Most of the Hobbits where lying in an alcove, waiting for sleep that they so desperately desired. Anything to take their minds of the wizards passing. Without him the world seemed all the more formidable, even in such a peaceful place such as the Golden Wood.

Gimli had already drifted off and thundering snores racked the placid air with every breath he took. Yuna considered asking the Halfling's if they wanted her to cut off his air supply so as to make it easier for them to get some sleep, but she decided that now was not the time. She walked down the gentle slope that led to the enclosure. Walking slowly up to where the Hobbits were she knelt down just in front of them.

"Are you okay?" She asked, to the group in general, noting the rather red and puffy looking eyes. None managed a verbal response but after a few weak nods, she decided they would be best left on their own. She wondered a few metres away from them to a tiny stream that she assumed somewhere down its course inevitably wound to the Nimrodel. Seconds later and a solemn looking Elven prince in a rather fitting silver outfit came to join them, jug held firmly in his hands.

"A lament for Gandalf." He said softly, looking far beyond what any normal eyes could ever hope to see.

"What do they say?" Merry broke in sheepishly. Legolas turned to face the young one, remorse present on his comely features. After a slight pause he spoke.

"I have not the heart to tell, for me the grief is still too near." The Hobbit gave a fleeting look in Yuna's direction but decided not to push the question. Nothing but grim tunes and the Dwarfs plentiful snoring filled the air for the next couple of minutes. The half-elf noticed the distinct lack of human in the vicinity of the camp. She scanned the area around for a few moments, having nothing else substantially better to do. It was at the roots of a mallorn tree that she spotted the two talking casually. They didn't seem to be in any sort of hurry to get back and so she assumed that her minuscule hope of a conversation was well and truly dead. The Halflings were in no state to talk and the elf seemed to have been taken into a world entirely of his own. There was really only one thing to do, and with that, she brought a hand up to the rather disgustingly matted bun that hung loose at the back of her head. It was going to be a long night.

Legolas sat on the plush green grass that carpeted the area they inhabited. He was in a half dream like state, various colours melding into images that might have been real or merely part of a world far beyond his own. How long he had been sat there was irrelevant, all he knew were the images dancing mesmerising before his eyes. His keen ears picked up movement off a little to his right. The Hobbits had fallen to sleep or were dozing when last he checked and Gimli was so deep into his dreams that not even The Dark Lord himself would have achieved the task of waking him. Whoever it was, was drawing closer. Legolas listened intently, light footfalls placed over a fair amount of ground, Hobbit. He doubted that whatever the reason the Halfling had got up for was serious and so casually returned to his previous state. Yet, there was something else, minuscule upon his conscience. Another set of feet a little further away. These were lighter still, moving rapidly and with intent purpose, elf. He opened his eyes slightly, scanning for the figures that had before only been present to his ears. It was Frodo, walking to a staircase that lined the sides of a large hollow in the landscape. He couldn't see what he had made his mind up to be an elf however and this stirred his curiosity to such a level that he decided to leave his trance like state and venture to the edge of the hollow. He picked himself up off the ground and started in the direction the young Hobbit had wondered.

As he went on more and more of the area bellow was revealed and he could soon make out a figure in the centre of the configuration's floor. It was Galadriel, the Lady of Light. Her golden hair rippled gently over her shoulders as she waited patiently for Frodo to make his way down. What was going on? Why did the Lady of light seek to talk to the ring-bearer now and not when they had had their audience with her and Celeborn? He noticed other things on the floor of the hollow. A pedestal with a large ornate bowl and a plain silver jug, much like the one he had not so long ago held. Behind it a small fountain sprouted out from the rock ending in a small pool at the bottom.

Legolas spun round startled, someone had called his name. He looked to where the other members of the Fellowship present had been left resting. None stirred. Keen eyes darted from one place to another. Of course, how could he be so foolish? He thought as he spotted the half-elf a little off to the side. Why was it that he seemed to be ignoring her, even mentally? Slight flashes of what had had happened by the moon lit lagoon pranced around his head. He attempted to clear his thoughts, shaking his head slightly before deciding to question her actions.

"May I be of assistance, Lady Yunalesca?" He asked courteously but felt somewhat others wise, rather eager to return the scene down bellow. She didn't move a muscle in his direction and instead kept to her monotone task of combing thick shimmering silver sections of hair.

"You have no right to watch what is going to take place." She returned firmly. "It is for the Halfling alone, his destiny alone." A pause and then. "If the Lady wanted you as an spectator have no doubt that she would not hesitate to ask. But as it is, I can assure you that your eyes are unwelcome at such a time." The prince felt like a dog after having been told off by his master. He stepped away from the edge with some reluctance and decided to join the she-elf by the stream. She did nothing to acknowledge his presence as he came to sit beside her and instead merely carried on with the task she seemed set on finishing.

"I know it is not my place to ask." He spoke. "But what is taking place down there?" Nothing but silence greeted his question. He tried again, determined to get an answer. "I understand if you do not feel right to answer but I would merely like some assurance that Frodo will not be in any sort of danger." It wasn't exactly a lie. He definitely didn't want to see the Hobbit come to any harm, but in truth the greatest need to know was out of curiosity. It was a good few minutes of placid serenity until Yuna finally saw fit to give him an answer.

"The only person the Halfling has to fear is the Lady." She replied solemnly. "Do you believe he is in any jeopardy with her?" The elf shook his head lightly. "Well then there you are." Legolas knew it wasn't a full answer but he supposed it was the best he was going to get out of her. However, something still puzzled him. Though it was a few minutes before he brought it up.

"Why is it that you are so protective of what is going on down there?" He questioned. "I may be wrong but you and the Lady hardly appeared close. Though I know little about your ways, I would believe it safe to assume that you would care less if one saw." He paused, not seeming to be able to get out what he really wanted to say. "What I mean is, how do you even know what is to happen unless…" He trailed off, it was clear that he had answered his own question.

"Unless I have been down there myself?"

"Frankly, yes."

"I will not lie to you, I was once in Frodo's position." A hint of remorse clung to her voice. She stopped short with the ebony comb that was pushing through one particularly tangled section near to the right side of her face "She will show him things he may or may not want to see but are there all the same. It is up to him what he will do with the information given. Whether use it to further his course or be discouraged by it and turn away from his true path." Legolas stared perplexed at the water surface in front of him. It was the one thing that truly bothered him about Yuna; she always left him with more questions than answers. His attention was drawn back to her as she cursed softly, glaring at a persistent knot. "I swear, sometimes I'm tempted just to cut this bloody mane of mine off."

Legolas regarded the so-called mane for a moment. It was now an interesting shade of light silver, and, free from any bindings, just folded slightly as the tips touched the forest floor. He hadn't noticed just how long it was when he saw her in the cove previously, he had been…slightly distracted. Now that he saw it, he couldn't help but wonder. She seemed to be a contradiction of herself. He voiced this fact a moment later.

"Forgive me if I offend you, but somehow you fail to strike me as the kind of person that would bother with growing hair as long as yours is now." She Looked™ at him for a long, profound moment.

"What exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?" Panic flashed through the archer's eyes for a fleeting moment, before Yuna continued. "No, I suppose you're right. But what about you? You manage to keep your hair looking as silky and blonde as ever, why can't I? Maybe the only reason why I bother is because most people think of me as nothing more than a man with breasts, maybe this is my way of staying remotely feminine. However annoying it may be." There was another brief silence. "I'm not the only female warrior out there, but I think I'm one of the only ones that actually likes to keep themselves presentable, on most occasions in an case." She examined her nails. They were neatly trimmed to ensure they didn't get in the way, but a good millimetre of white enamel was still visible. Another pause. They were becoming quite frequent now. "Anyway, I had better get some rest before I depart tomorrow." She rose slowly.

"You're leaving so soon?" The surprise was cleverly masked.

"I have no reason to stay." He remembered her saying that she would leave as soon as she got to Lorien, but now that he was here, he couldn't picture leaving the Golden Wood unless he had to.

"If I could, I would remain here for as long as I could, unfortunately that will not be for long."

"I have been here many times before, it is nothing special to me anymore. I wish nothing more than to return to Fangorn. I have been gone too long already." Internally, Legolas wondered how anyone could ever tire of the Wood's beauty, but he kept that to himself.

"Fangorn…I have heard many tales of the place. They say it is enchanted, full of magic and age old memories." She raised an eyebrow at that.

"Sort of, picture this: Lorien, overgrown, without light, without the pleasant misty air, without the faint sounds of haunting Elvish voices, and certainly without any of the beauty of the Golden Wood. There are no animals – I doubt many would willingly get within a mile of the forest – and no birds. The only living things are the trees themselves." She paused yet again. "Rather like southern Mirkwood without the spiders. They wouldn't dare try and take over Fangorn."

"And you…live there?"

"Well, you live in Mirkwood, do you not?"

"Yes, but, that is…different…In Mirkwood there is a Palace, and…"

"Well in Fangorn we have trees, lots and lots of trees. And I know about Mirkwood's stony halls, I've been there a couple of times. They're nothing special." Legolas took this as her own way of ending the conversation.

"Will you still be here tomorrow morning?" He asked out of curiosity, which seemed to have taken over the young prince.

"I probably won't leave until the evening, so you needn't worry your little blonde head about it. I bid you goodnight." He nodded in response as she strode away through the trees.

It was early the following morning, though you could hardly tell night from day in a place such as this.

If you really had to pick out details there might have been a slight increase of light and the songs of lament had died down to slight flitters of music made by any host of foreign instruments. Next to that, it was the same glorious spectre that had greeted them the day before.

The slumbering members of the Fellowship awoke to an infinite spread of dishes that had been laid out on the ground. Silver platters with every item of food prepared to perfection. Scents wafted to them from various fruits and cakes, all faultlessly garnished. The mood had been improved upon since the following night and now the party sat round in an untidy semicircle.

"The irony of the elves." The dwarfs gruff voice shattered the pleasant atmosphere. "Where is all the meat? You'd think they had some sort of intolerance to the stuff." It wouldn't have been hard to imagine that he was aiming this comment at the sole elf in the vicinity. Already, he had been muttering about the untrustworthiness of the elves and how it was unsafe to eat the items set out in front of them. Subsequently he would only eat things that at least one member of the company had tried first. And even this was preceded by plenty of inspecting and prodding.

"Do you not think, Gimli." Aragorn intervened. "That if the elves had indeed some notion to see you dead, that they would have done it when we first entered into the Golden Wood?" The dwarf flailed for a moment starting but never finishing several different retorts. In the end he did the smart thing and just settled for keeping his mouth shut.

"Besides, my dear dwarf, I for one have never know any elf to have any particular liking for red raw meat still clinging to the bone. As you appear to love so." Yuna added her own musings in as she paced over to where the others were seated. One or two heads turned to greet her but most were to engrossed in the feast in front of them. She took up a place between Boromir and Sam, but didn't touch the food, not feeling particularly hungry. Boromir eyed her with a slightly blurry gaze. He hadn't got much if any rest the night before and was feeling worse for ware. Frodo looked similar, he stared hard at the items on his plate, but had too much on his mind to be troubled with eating.

"Well, aren't we just a cheerful bed of roses." She said, sarcasm oozing from every sailable. "It is so unfortunate that I will have to be leaving you merry folk so swiftly. How ever will I cope without all the excitement, I just do not know." Silence. This would be the time where any comedian on stage would mutter 'yeesh…tough crowd'. It wasn't her best crack, but she wasn't really bothered in any case.

"You are leaving?" Said Boromir after a few awkward minutes. His mind was working with all the efficiency of a goldfish attempting to rebuild Gondolin.

"Yes, I plan on leaving for Fangorn before the day is out. I have no reason to stay." He simply nodded in response. Something was troubling him, she could tell, but decided not to pry. She noticed him feeling strangely uncomfortable as the Lady's eyes bored into his.

"'Tis unfortunate. I had hoped you would have decided to accompany us further, you seem to be one of the few sane people left." She smiled at that.

"I can hardly blame them, though. They all have something or another weighing heavily on their minds. The Hobbits in particular." Sam didn't either didn't hear her, or was too busy talking quietly to his master to notice. "Do not be troubled, I shall visit Minas Tirth at the next possible interval if this War comes to an end." Boromir mentally noticed her casual use of 'if,' but decided not to question it He simply nodded once more and smiled as his own farewell. She excused herself quickly as Aragorn got up from the heavily adorned spread and glided away. She needed to speak with him before she left, knowing full well it could be the last time she would be able to.

"Aragorn." The Ranger stopped, turning around to see Yunalesca a few metres behind him, staring with an unreadable expression. He joined the growing group of individuals choosing to simply nod rather than waste their breath on some insane Half-Elf. "Where are you going?"

"I simply wish to think for a while, by myself." She outright ignored the last part of the sentence, and carried on.

"Why do you think it's easier to run away from the inevitable?"

"…Excuse me?"

"How does that go? Ah yes, '_Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them._' Which one are you, hmm?" He was silent. He knew very well what she was speaking of, and it was the one topic he did not wish to discuss. "Why do you refuse to carry out what the Valar have in store for you? You know very well that you cannot avoid it, so why do you seem to put it off at every possible opportunity? You must be nearing 80 now, that's getting rather old for a human…"

"Well, how would you feel?" He shot back, anger gripping him slightly. "I do not want to be King, I have never wanted it. Just like Frodo never wished for the ring to come to him."

"Yet it did, and yet you are." She interrupted. "And, just like him, it is your destiny, and you cannot avoid it."

"You seem to know so much of my 'destiny,' so tell me, Yuna, what about yours?"

"Simple, I don't have one. I'm one of the luckier inhabitants of this dying Earth. My sole purpose in life is to be born, live, and then die. If I had some kind of destiny, perhaps I would be just as adverse to fulfilling it as you are, but at least I have tried to do something with my life. At least I have attempted to do what I could to make my otherwise pathetic existence worthwhile."

"Do not think you can lecture me. I have enough people to do that without you telling me how wrong I am. But of course, you can do no wrong, tell me of all the glorious deeds you have done throughout your life, then."

"I have done a lot of things in my time. I'm not exactly proud of all of them, not all of my decisions were good ones, and there are a lot of things I regret doing. But at least I can say I tried, at least I never gave up, and at least I've been able to pick myself up and start over whenever I stumbled." With her miniature rant over, she fixed him with a steely glare and waited for a response.

"I have tried my hardest to please so many different people, I'm not sure what I am supposed to do any more. The last thing I want to do is to take my place as the King of Gondor, but I will. The only reason I am even thinking of doing so is so I can be with Arwen. I love her enough to endure anything, even following this 'destiny' of mine. But, of course, you wouldn't know anything about love, now, would you?" He knew his words would sting, and they were harsher than he had intended, but he wouldn't take them back now.

"No, you're right, _I_ wouldn't." And with that, she turned, and was gone. In truth, she hated to leave things standing as they were between them, but she was far too proud to admit that to anyone, especially him.

On her way back to the makeshift camp to collect her various pieces of armour she had left scattered about, she spotted an inanimate lawn ornament, before realising that it was, in fact, a very faraway looking Frodo. He was sat, eyes staring downwards at nothing in particular, a strange lost expression on his face. His feet dangled off the ground as he perched on the bench that was more of an extension of the tree it was against than anything else. Feeling oddly maternal, she sat down next to him. He glanced up briefly after a few seconds, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Yes?" He asked innocently, she regarded his glazed over blue eyes for a moment.

"It is troubling you, even the most undiscerning individual can see that. You do not have to suffer alone."

"What…what do you mean?"

"They are worried about you, you know. Your fellow Shire-folk care for you more than you know. They would be more than happy to let you share the burden with them."

"I…I do not wish to trouble them with the weight on my mind. And I would not endanger them by asking them to help me with the ring. It is my burden alone to bear."

"If that is your wish, so be it. But I can tell the darkness distresses you more than you let on. Why do you not share this with them?"

"The darkness…I can feel it growing, threatening to take over me more and more every day. I can't let them know just how much I feel it. If only I was strong enough to escape it…" His voice had lowered to a whisper.

"It is not your fault. The Ring is evil itself, and wherever it goes, it will follow." She paused slightly, before chanting softly: "_It cannot be seen, Cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, Cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, Ends life, Kills laughter…_" She noticed Frodo staring at her, surprise clearly written on his face.

"Bilbo…"

"Yes, Bilbo, it is an interesting riddle. Remember, Frodo, wherever there is darkness, there is light, and wherever there is light, it casts a shadow. Do not blame yourself for your thoughts, many a lesser being would have fallen into shadow by now, you are an extraordinary creature. As are all Hobbits."

"I would have fallen already had it not been for Sam…I am not strong enough to do this on my own."

"What lies behind us, and what lies before us, are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." And it was with that parting thought that she left the Hobbit to his musings, continuing back to the camp.

It was reaching late afternoon when Yuna decided that it was time for her to make her exit. She had spent most of the day talking to Haldir, discussing the happenings in the area since she had been away. Movement by Orcs had significantly increased in the past few months, though few still ventured beyond the borders of either Lorien or, for what he knew Fangorn. She also said her goodbyes to him. For all their outward hatred for each other they still held a bond that was not easily broken. For indeed it was that Haldir had not always been so solemn as he was in his older years. And so it was that she left him, knowing that it was subsequently doubtful they would ever again see or for that matter speak to each other again. Unless it be in the undying lands. She had no great amount of possessions to collect and decided to take only enough provisions to comfortably last her the week's journey to Entwood. It somewhat surprised her to find most of the company assembled in readiness for her departure. She did not think that they would really care if she left as their dominant relationship had been as captive and keeper. Nonetheless there were Gimli, Boromir, Pippin, Legolas and Merry stood to attention as she entered the camp. She smiled somewhat.

"We have come to bid you fair well, Lady Yuna." The Gondorian announced as she drew close.

"I am truly blessed." She returned. For once it lacked the usual sarcasm that was mostly tagged along to statements of the kind. She noted the absence of Aragorn as well as both Sam and Frodo but did not think to inquire. "I suppose this is the last time I will meet any of you unless fate deems it necessary." It might have been rather grim but it was really the only thing she could think of to say. It was one of those rare occasions where she was lost for words.

"We'll miss you, Lady Yuna." Said Pippin, who proceeded to elbow Merry.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever meet another woman quite like you." He said dreamily. A resounding nod passed through the group. The half-elf wrinkled her brow.

"Well, I had no idea that I'd made such a big impact. Let me say that however unpleasant the journey may have seemed, I thoroughly enjoyed your company." She gifted them with one of her rare sincere smiles as she pulled on the light grey cloak she had been given to replace her old one.

She approached the two Hobbits, and knelt down to be at eye level. "I'll miss you two little scoundrels. Don't be too much trouble to the others. Keep your wits about you and show them what Hobbits are made of." To Boromir, she smiled sadly. "I suppose we have already said our farewells. But none the less, for a human, I was glad to fight alongside you." To Legolas, she grinned. "Well, Princey, I guess this is it. Enjoy your time here. As for the questions I'm sure you hold, perhaps if we meet at the Grey Havens or beyond I shall find time to answer them." And as an afterthought, she added: "And no more spying on young, defenceless maidens, okay?" His eyes widened at her remark, as did those of the Fellowship around him. As she turned to walk away, a throat cleared rather raspily. "Oh, Gimli, do forgive me. I took you to be no more than a rather odd coloured piece of shrubbery, perhaps if you weren't so covered with hair and lived but a little higher off the ground, I would not be so quick to make the same mistake." He glared. She grinned cutely. And that was that. Yunalesca departed the Golden Wood of Lorien, and left the Fellowship to their fate.


	16. Fate

'…If I  
Turn my back I'm defenceless  
And to give in to fate seems senseless  
If I hide my pride and let it all go on then they'll  
Take from me till everything is gone  
If I let them go I'll be outdone  
But if I try to catch them I'll be outrun  
If I'm killed by the questions like a cancer  
Then I'll be buried in the silence of the answer  
(By myself)…'

_Linkin Park By Myself_

Chapter fifteen Fate

There are some things in life which never get boring. Say, stealing your dad's credit card and buying clothes that you really don't need, but want in any case. Somewhat pointless, but never boring. Or for the braver of you, there's always pissing off shopping assistants by trying a crate full of testers and not buying a single product. Again, utterly pointless, but never, ever boring.

And then there are things that do get boring. And plodding through endless miles of dull, hilly countryside is one of those things that is very, very boring indeed. Edoras lay some miles back along the way that almost the entirety of its inhabitants had wearily trekked. The she-Elf found that as the convoy wasted the hours away on the four day journey to Helms-deep there was little more to do than wile away the time in morbid silence. Nobody was in the mood to talk. The inhabitants of the deserted town were none too overjoyed with the prospects that lay ahead and mostly kept themselves to themselves. The other members of her party were somewhere up front she presumed, possibly at the head of the caravan with King Theoden. It didn't matter, she hadn't really expected it to be all action in any case, but in the back of her mind, something itched for a fight.

That was what Yuna was when it came down to it. A fighter. Not the babysitter she had been reduced to. In her right hand she loosely held the reins to the chocolate-brown horse on which Telnariel and her rather scruffy looking brother were safely mounted. More and more she found herself being drawn into games such as count the several hundred people in front of you or which big, fluffy cloud looks like what. By now her situation was such that she _was_ actually beginning to discern the "pony" in the cloud that otherwise resembled…a cloud .To tell the truth, she couldn't see the difference between one formation or the other. It was tedious. It was pointless. And to a greater extent, it was driving her insane. She would have given almost anything to face down a band of Orcs, Goblins or even Uruk-Hai. It didn't matter. She longed for chance to dispose of something with a bit of muscle, something would actually threaten her life to an extent.

It had been too long and she was beginning to miss the adrenaline that came with it. The knowledge that you now held your life and the life of those around you in your hands. One false move could either wipe out you and your comrades, or save the day. It was a constant barrage of split-second decisions, muscle-wrenching moves where you pushed yourself to the limit, and above all the satisfaction that came with putting an end to another miserable and petty force of darkness.

But, for now at least there was no sign of any marauders appearing over one of the lush, yellow-green coloured hills to disturb their march. And then a blissful dawn came to her clouded mind's sky. Why was she yearning for a battle? She would get one in no longer than perhaps a couple of days. Whatever happened at Helms-deep, the fact that they would not escape a most likely full on siege with the army Saruman had undoubtedly cooked up still rung true. Though King Theoden opposed the thought of outright warfare, no matter what he did, the tides had already turned.

It was the day before that they had sat in his hall. Gandalf trying to convince the King to ride out and meet them head-on, a plan that even Yuna agreed would have undoubtedly meant suicide. Consequential numbers of the Rohirrim had followed Eomer out of the Riddermark, who himself had been banished by the unwisely council of the aptly named Wormtongue, leaving their defences and attack with a hole that was almost impossible to fill. Meeting Sarurman's horde out on the open plane would mean the likely destruction of Theoden's own army. Then nothing would be able to stop the intruders pouring into Rohan. So he had opted for what seemed the cowardly option instead of the hero's and had started his people on the path that meant they would unquestionably have shelter but only presumably safety. It was the risk he had to take. And it was a much better one than waiting for their deaths at Edoras.

Still the King refused to send messengers to Eomer, claiming they would not reach there in time for assistance to be called. But Yuna felt the inkling of something else, was it…shame? And besides, The White Wizard held other plans.

"Helm's Deep!" Gimli spat the word as they headed in a small procession down to the stables. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight." Yuna who was trailing lazily behind scoffed and added quietly:

"They wouldn't be standing for long." The dwarf didn't seem to hear the comment however and merely ranted on unhindered.

"Who will defend them if not their King?" He asked, though it was largely rhetorical.

"The King is only doing what he thinks is best for his people." The Ranger replied nonetheless. 'Helms-deep has saved them in the past.'

"There is no way out of that ravine." Gandalf added pointedly. The two headed on further whilst Gimli, Yuna and Legolas stayed near the entrance, allowing them some semblance of privacy. "Theoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety, what they will get is a massacre." A brief silence and then directly to Aragorn. "Theoden has a strong will but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan." He looked his counterpart straight in the eye before uttering: "He will need you before the end Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. Their defences have to hold."

'They will.' He returned with exactly what Gandalf wanted to hear. With that, the Wizard turned stroking down Shadowfax's snow-white mane.

'The Grey Pilgrim.' He muttered, whether it was to the horse or those standing by was left undecided. 'That's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth, and now, I have no time. Good luck.' He said and mounted his steed. 'My search will not be in vain. Look to my coming, on the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east.' With that the horse sped away through the gate, practically trampling Yuna and the other two at that end in its haste, they only barely managed to jump clear out of its way.

And that was it, Gandalf had speed through and out of Edoras like a bat out of Hell, determined to catch his quarry before it was too late. Yunalesca looked to her horse, who was doing nothing at all to ignore Arod's constant attentions. If anything she was encouraging it. She sighed and turned to leave, before the shuffling of hooves turned her round again to face a sight that would have most mothers covering their children's naïve eyes.

"Get _off!_" She yelled at Arod, bringing her hand around in a stinging slap to his rump. He trotted away contentedly, flicking his tail. Túlka nickered nonchalantly as Yuna tugged on her forelock. "Listen, _you_, what kind of behaviour is that? Seriously, girl, you're hornier than a mare in season." She thought about that statement for a second or two. "Oh, _right_. Well….just try not to get pregnant. I know I said you'd make the best mother in Rohan one day, but I didn't mean _now_." Túlka's tongue flicked out to lick Yuna's face, catching her off guard. "Now _that_ was uncalled for!" Túlka snorted. "Stupid horse…" She heard Legolas chuckle quietly from somewhere behind her. She whipped round to glare at him. "Oh don't_ you _start, It's your fault if I've got a miniature Arod running around in a few month's time."

"Why is it my fault? As I recall, Túlka here did not seem to object to his affections." He replied, cocking his head ever so slightly. Yuna turned to stroke Túlka's mane as she thought of how stupid it was that they were now talking about…what they were talking about.

"He wouldn't know what to do with her." She said primly, "Just because she likes younger horses…" The conversation ended there, with Legolas eyeing her warily as he backed out of the stables.

It was the second day into the trek. Night had come most uneventfully but still there was an air of dread held in its velvety-black skies. But dawn had cracked upon the horizon as it had done a million times before and with it came a renewed hope that these evictees would live to see the sun shine upon the golden hall once more.

The she-Elf now somehow found herself, still leading along the two blond haired, wide-eyed kids, but now also to side paced Aragorn. Gimli was, surprisingly, mounted and being led by Eowyn, who had changed from her more noble attire into more suitable travelling garments. As for the elf, he was at scouting somewhere ahead of the party and hadn't been back in the last hour or so.

"It's true, you don't see many dwarf woman." Gimli went on, Yuna could almost see the Lady of Rohan regretting her early question. "Well, in fact they are so alike in voice and appearance…"He chuckled "…they are mistaken for dwarf men." Eowyn looked bemused to the Ranger.

"It's the beards." He whispered helpfully. She smiled as she discreetly shushed him.

"And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women." He said exasperatedly, Eowyn's grin widened. "And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" The Lady laughed audibly at this last statement. "Which of course is ridiculous." The dwarf added. His horse neighed wildly and was about to bolt when Eowyn checked herself and managed to calm it.

But now there was something else. Yuna couldn't help it; a question was begging to get out, pleading and gnawing at her.

"Gimli." She started in the sweetest voice she could muster. "Are _you_ a woman?" He looked at her shocked and his cheeks were flushed with a fetching shade of scarlet. He huffed for a while without bringing out a response before he spoke.

"What kind of a stupid question is that!" He managed.

"A _just_ one considering what you said, and since you're getting so angry shall I take that as a yes?'" There was a deep snigger from Aragorn's direction. The gnome turned in the saddle, remarkably managing not to fall of and shot a glare his way, silencing any follow-ups.

"But…" Came the soft, innocent voice of Telnariel. "He can't be a woman, because his chest isn't _nearly_ as _huge_ as Yunie's." She didn't know it was possible for so many people to turn so red in so short a time.

"Heh heh…kids…" She managed, it would have to do. Why hadn't Yuna just kept her mouth shut?

The dwarf was looking at her with an air of satisfaction, though this was somewhat hindered by strawberry hue clutching feverishly to his bearded face. Yes, kids. They have this way of saying what is outright obvious but doesn't really need to be said, in other words the truth. And their timing is impeccable, no doubt a sixth sense means that embarrassment is kept to the maximum. Genius. The half-Elf attempted to give the miniature blonde a Look™. She grinned cutely, completely and utterly unaware of what she had done.

It was gonna be a long trip.

Night fell once more. Images jumped and cascaded in front of my eyes as I stared into the cracking embers of a campfire. My eyes closed slowly. I could still feel the heat on my eyelids, on my hands, flames flicking around me like whip tongues. Memories swirled in my vision. Heat, burning wood, muffled cries for help, screams…

flash

A snowy-haired woman ran over the uneven terrain on bare feet. A similarly coloured child was clutched to her breast like a lifeline. She ran onwards, never faltering, but occasionally looking back to see a village up in flames, the people scattered like chickens escaping the hutch. Her feet made no sound as she ran, either that, or what little noise they made was drowned out by the deafening roar of flames. The child's eyes were large, red-rimmed emeralds, as oppose to the mother's ocean-coloured pools, tears flowing freely, streaking her otherwise dirty and sooty face. 

_There were_ _people in front of them as well, mothers and children, all looking equally frightened and uncertain._

_The memory faded away as a new one presented itself…_

flash

_The woman stood, clutching the child's hand tightly as her tears once again flowed freely. A man was on a horse, speeding off into the distance, kicking up a small amount of dust in his wake. His short, raven hair flew out behind him as he turned his head ever so slightly, his bright green eyes locking with those of the woman as she wept. The child clung to her mother's leg, uttering a single word in a tear-broken voice._

_"…daddy…"_

I could smell it before I saw it, even heard it for that matter. It's scent like that of a wolves but with added potency. It crested the hill like a conqueror from a recently won battle, already victorious. Down below its heaving body, the train came to a halt as more and more stared up to meet a face hunger and a body built for lethality. Canines dripped with saliva as the beast panted, its beady eyes picking out its first victim, soon to be one of many. It started down the hill, like an avalanche. Its muscles carrying it's shear bulk with efficiency as it closed on the space separating it from its prey.

I didn't have much time. People where just standing round, scared, helpless, unmoving. They would run, eventually, but by then it would already be too late. And besides, there was no one else who had a hope of stopping it. I made out where it was heading. A woman, hunched slightly by the pack she carried. She saw it coming, but like the others didn't move, held steadfast by her fear.

Before another heartbeat I was dashing in her direction. I could get there in time, I knew I would, I had to.

A few metres still separated us as the beasts powerful hind legs pushed off from the ground and it was soaring through the air. But it would come down on its target. Hard. The woman, who couldn't have been taller than five and a half feet, dropped her encumbering baggage and brought her hands up reflectively, shielding her face. It wouldn't save her; the wolf would rip through her like a rag doll.

A few feet now. I could almost hear the pounding of the woman's heart in her chest. The wolves sped with adrenaline as it neared her. Her breath reduced to a whimper, the creature's in huge gulps as it took in her welcome scent.

Inches now. I opened my arms as I reached her, wrapped them around her chest and brought us both down to the floor. My shoulder impacted as together we hit the soil. I breathed a short sigh of relief as the creature continued on over us. It landed perfectly a few metres away, front paws then back connecting with the ground. It was only then I noticed the empty saddle strapped to its torso. The wolf had to have thrown its rider and broken away from the pack. But that meant that there were defiantly others, the question was where, and did anyone know?

It turned to stare at me almost hurt that I had taken away its kill. For the moment it simply remained motionless apart from the thumping of its heart. But it wouldn't last long, and I had to get the woman out of here. She shook from fear, boring her terrified brown eyes into mine for what seemed to be an eternity.

"Stay calm." I whispered despite the fact she was anything but. I couldn't say I was much better. The sudden burst of action had sent my head spinning. "When I tell you to run, don't hesitate and don't think of going before then or it'll tear you apart. Understand?' She blinked then gave a minute nod. "It'll chase after you but don't worry, I'll take it down." Silence and then. "Don't look back." The Warg was coming to its senses and growled, low, deep and menacing. It lifted a blackened gum to reveal it's yellowing, cavity covered teeth. It looked…mad, to be light. The woman whimpered again. Slowly, as not to alarm the rusty-brown creature in front of us both, I reached a hand down to the short, dagger-like sword on my right hip, carefully pulling it free from its sheath. I could feel my own heart pounding and swallowed hard. I readied myself to stand, amazed that the beast still had not pounced. I could take it.

With all the strength I had I hefted us both to a half-crouching position and relinquished my grip on her shivering frame.

"Run!" I shouted. It was a few seconds before her legs got the message her brain already understood and she half-ran half-stumbled away into the thin crowd that gathered out of frightened curiosity.

The warg bounded after its prey, paying the barest of glances to me. That was its mistake. Before it knew what was going on, I had tackled it from one side and was rolling on the grassy plane, fighting for a spot to thrust my sword. Its head reared up, and was soon severed as my blade came across. Moving forward quickly, I yanked the sword out, shouted a command to the people congregated, breathed a sigh of relief as Eowyn came over the hill, half the population of Rohan in tow, and ran for my beloved Túlka.

The mare was bucking and tossing her head impatiently as she watched the others speed off. In the space of a few seconds I had caught up to her, she recognised me immediately and whinnied happily.

A scream behind me. In a reflex action, my Head whipped around in time to see yet another powerless civilian frozen with the sight of a warg in mid-air, claws poised, jaws apart and glistening. My hand flew to my hip, pulled out a dagger and in one swift movement, my body swivled, the dagger was thrown, I continued my split-second twirl and eventually my hand found Tulka's back, and I hauled myself up and onto my horse, leaning forward as she sped up. All this took place in about two seconds, I relished the satisfying crunch that emitted from the soon-to-be warg corpse as my dagger connected. Another selfless act. Perhaps after the battle for Rohan, if anyone survives, maybe then I'll have done enough to leave these shores…

I snapped back to reality as the familiar stench of blood, human and warg alike, flooded my senses. I had caught up to the others now, I could feel the hooves thundering on the ground, the shouts and screams of dying creatures echoing through the air. My eyes caught a shimmer of flawless blonde and auburn frizz, but where was Aragorn? He blended in far too well with the humans around here, but I soon spotted the glistening raven hair, accentuated by lack of helmet. Auburn frizz was gone by the time I looked back, idly kicking an orcish rider of its mount. I heard the bellow of a dwarf and saw where he had disappeared to. His tiny legs were kicking profusely from beneath a collapsed warg. He was shaking his head as if trying to ward off his own (or possibly the warg's, I thought later on) stench. It was sadistically comical to say the very least.

Feeling that I should probably relieve the vertically challenged ball of metal and hair, I drew a halberd from a convenient corpse and swiped it round to at least partially knock the warg out of the way. I looked back to check he had got loose, and my heart sank to se the same pair of Dwarvish feet kicking out from under the creature. Sighing dramatically, I dismounted quickly and sped towards where he lay, immobile. I saw a rider do the same, knife drawn and ready to plunge into an unsuspecting Gimli. With an incredibly unladylike kick to its head, this notion was soon disbanded and I was left with the cheerful task of hauling the warg off Gimli.

This, however, proved to be rather difficult. The creature wouldn't budge, and the shouts of an enraged dwarf only made the experience even more unbearable. A shout form somewhere to my right informed me that if I didn't do something soon, I too would fall prey. A sword was drawn and swung around to my left, disabling the approaching warg momentarily. Unfortunately, this strike was not enough to kill, merely warn the beast that I was not a force to be reckoned with. Its balance regained, it leapt forward, teeth barred and glistening as it lunged for my throat. I ducked and shot my blade upwards, cutting it clean through the throat. As it fell, the only thing left for me to do without being crushed was to drop to the blood-soaked earth and roll to one side. As I did this, I caught sight of a warg perched on top of the fallen creature covering Gimli, glaring at the Dwarf with hungry eyes.

I got to my feet and pirouetted round to see a spear driven through its back by none other than Aragorn himself. I ran forward to relieve Gimli of the two corpses that were piled on top of him. A swift kick dealt with one, while the other required a little more muscle. A moment or two of pushing and the diminutive fighter was free, mumbling some curse or another under his breath.

The Ranger, I could see him out of the corner of my eye. One second he was mounted and fighting, the next he was on the ground, only just managing to catch hold of a fast paced warg. He clambered on behind the rider as the beast sped on, the wind rippling his hair and cloak dramatically. His lip was bleeding, he had several small cuts on his face, and a miniature gash on one of his hands. That was all I could make out from my vantage point. His sword had long since been knocked from his grasp, and he was using his fists to pummel the warg rider into submission. From what I could see it wasn't working very well. I scanned the horizon for Túlka, and, not finding her anywhere, whistled then called as loud as my cracked voice would allow. She soon came over and I mounted, rearing round to follow the speeding warg.

My breath caught in my throat for the briefest of moments as I saw the rough cliff edge they were heading to. The rider didn't seem to notice, neither did the warg, and neither did Aragorn. The situation didn't look too bright for any of them, though it was looking slightly better for the rider, whom had been knocked off by the force of a well-aimed punch, and was now in the grass some way behind. Aragorn was on the warg, still heading towards the cliff, fighting to gather some control. I wasn't going to make it there in time, even travelling as fast as my mare would take me. I cried out to him, battling for his attention, begging him to hear me and get off the denizen of Isengard. An icy hand gripped my heart as I realised the cold truth. It was too late, they were metres from the edge already, the warg was bucking and tossing its head around as if possessed. The metres became feet, inches, and finally…

I choked on my breath as they went over, Aragorn struggling in vain to find a handhold. No one else seemed to have seen it, I skimmed the surrounding area to conform this. I carried on my course until I was a few feet away from the cliff, at which point I hurriedly dismounted and dropped to my hands and knees, peering over the cliff's edge. I saw the water rushing beneath, I saw the bare cliff face, and nothing more. I shouted out a few times, waiting anxiously for a response, anything, anything to contradict my fears.

He was gone. It was as if the whole thing was in slow motion, replaying over and over again in my head, mocking me, questioning me. Why wasn't I there? Was I too slow? Why didn't I react quicker? Why did I feel it was my fault? My face burned with something that might have been embarrassment if it weren't for the current situation.

So many thoughts ran through my head. Why did this happen now? The humans had a small enough chance as it was. They needed a leader. Someone like Aragorn. But Aragorn wasn't here anymore. Now, who was left? Who would lead them to victory and then rebuild a shattered civilisation? It seemed like a fantasy, a fairytale ending. That sort of thing never happened in reality.

But…at least for a while I had tried to believe it. It didn't seem too far off anymore, not with a leader like Aragorn. Despite the fact I would have spat at the thought a few months ago. But even I had to admit he had grown up. He was no longer the stubborn child he was before, no longer the infuriating youth whom had dared to be so insolent. Now he was…just what he was supposed to be, a King among men, if not in title, then in heart and spirit. It was strange in a way, strange how he had changed so much in such a short time (or perhaps it was simply because a decade seemed to flow past in the dull torture of immortality), strange what it was he had changed into.

And now he was dead, gone forever, lost to the world, never to achieve the destiny that was his.

The thought sent me screaming back into reality. Gone, dead, forever. What would they say? I got up form my hands and knees into a sitting position as I contemplated the gravity of the situation.

The others were coming, I could feel their footfalls on the ground as they approached. I was vaguely aware of those gathered around me. They spoke loudly, but I wasn't listening. I could already hear in my mind's ear what they were saying. Where is Lord Aragorn? Who saw him last? Where did he go? I wanted to simply cry out "He's dead, he fell, he's gone." But I couldn't bring myself to do it, they would find out eventually anyway. I vaguely heard the despicable creature some distance away cough and acknowledge the fact that it was alive. Legolas wasted no time in interrogating the rider. I heard the phrase "He's lying." At least once escape the Elf's mouth. Denial.

"No, he's not." I said quietly, almost whispering. His head snapped toward me. I could feel the other's eyes on me. "He's not lying. Aragorn is…he…he fell. Off the cliff…I wasn't fast enough to stop it." Various gasps and murmurs of disbelief ran through the small crowd assembled. I felt strangely obliged to continue. "There…was nothing I could do, the warg…it carried him straight over. The rider fell off before. He…he's not lying…" My voice went silent as I head the faint, sickly laughter of the aforementioned rider. My head remained bowed as I sat, my feet over the edge of the cliff.

There were some more quiet murmuring and lip-biting silences as the truth sunk in. Eventually, they drifted away, I didn't really notice until a hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked up to see Legolas, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, at least unreadable to anyone bellow the age of five hundred. Behind the mask he kept up, I could see the pain shining in his eyes, the uncertainty knitting his dark brows together ever so slightly. His cheeks seemed slightly more accentuated with the effort of keeping his face expressionless. I could read his grief just as easily as I could any other. I had always had an empathetic gift, and it was times like these that it was most useful. I took the offered hand and rose to my feet, keeping my eyes low as I nodded and headed solemnly to Túlka.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Not one of tears, that was a forbidden luxury for me, no, the thing that plagued me and made time slip by unchecked was far worse. Guilt. I could have been there. Been there to grab his hand as the warg tumbled over. Been there to save the race of men's last hope. '_It could have been different_.' The thought hissed at me from inside my head, making it all the more difficult to silence. Five, maybe ten more seconds was the most I would need. But there was no way to break into the past, it was a gift not even Sauron possessed and thankfully so. And so I asked myself what was there now? Hope? Hope that, like Gandalf before him, Aragorn too would rise from the ashes and join the world of those still living. Even though, with the battle coming, for how much longer that would be was held in question.

But there was another question that haunted me. Why did I care? It may have seemed heartless but it was true enough. I hadn't known the reluctant heir for long and half that meagre time was spent at each other's throats. It was almost pitiful to think that after millennia's of locking feelings away, this would make me break. Make me shed the façade that I had instinctively built to shield what lay out in the world from what was held beneath the surface. No, Aragorn wasn't coming back. I would grieve, maybe even in the presence of others such as Legolas or the Dwarf, it was expected. But in my mind he was already a distant memory. So finally, like far too many others before him, I left the Dunedin in the past.

"Yuna…?" It was the elf. I hadn't noticed him move belong side me or the fact that he had been calling my name for the last minute or so. I turned to face him slowly, a look of sorrow betrayed on my features. I could see the questions on his lips. " Are you sure you didn't see him down there?" or "Is there anyway you could have made a mistake?" For him and Gimli both there was still that glimmer of hope. Either to find him alive or to give him the send off he deserved. "Are you alright?" It was sincere, honest, carefully phrased and direct. I furrowed my brow in brief puzzlement.

"Yes, I…was just thinking." I replied in the same careful tone, still trying to work out what had made him ask the question in the first place. It wasn't sympathy. No, the Elf was a fast learner, sympathy wouldn't get him anywhere in my mental filing cabinet. It was more out of genuine interest. Concern, even. He actually wanted to know how I felt. It was a strange sensation, though not so much odd as foreign. He nodded, a softer version of the same expression he had worn earlier written clearly on his face. I continued, somewhat unsure. "I…I…" I was lost for words. How could I tell him everything? Not only would it depress me to the extreme, but it would also depress one of the best fighters we had in the vicinity. I let the conversation trail off. A silence filled the air, punctuated only by the soft thundering of hooves bellow. He didn't seem to mind, accepting my unwillingness to speak without question. It was something I was grateful for, and even more so towards the fact that the ensuing silence was not an uncomfortable or empty one.

It wasn't long before the fortress of Helm's Deep towered over the horizon, the mountains, making for a stunning backdrop. A thought struck me. What of Eowyn? What would she have to say about the demise of Aragorn? It was clear she liked him, or, _had_ liked him, I mentally corrected myself. The entire group travelling with me now was already downhearted, the last thing we needed was for the rest of Rohan's inhabitants to feel the same way. I put such depressing thoughts aside for the moment, concentrating on the road ahead for the time being.

The slurps from a Dwarven bear mug gave me some focus as I thought over our arrival at the Deep. I couldn't hear very well what was being said over the noise created by grieving wives and mothers alike, but I could read her face like an open book. First there was the little gasp of surprise, a slight shaking of the head, the aversion of the eyes, the thoughtful look, confusion portrayed by knitted brows, the unconscious moistening of the lips. It was all there, every twitch drove my self esteem down even lower. I couldn't bear to look at her painfully predictable reaction, even though I knew it was coming. The voice at the back of my head still screamed '_it's your fault, you should have been there, you could have saved him.'_ I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't help blaming myself, I was used to it. Everything seemed to be my fault in one way or another.

Now, as I sat at a dark wooden table, marked by knives and scraped by shields and armour, I pondered over a single question.

Why?

Why did it have to happen? Why did hope present itself, small, impossible, meagre, but still there, only to be snatched away again? Why was it my fault? Why did I care so much?

The Elf had been here earlier as the three of us brooded over the day's grim events. They had spoken of memories of the ranger, days, months spent in his company. I realised more and more just how wrong I had been about him. He really had grown up. Just thinking that made me feel like a proud aunt or uncle, finally accepting him into the family or something equally stupid and random. They told stories of heroism, stupidity, friendship, dangers braved and battles won, all in the company of Aragorn. The only tale I had to share was one I was not about to think of. Our first meeting, and certainly the most unpleasant one. The still-healing scar serving as a constant reminder that immortality does not mean invincibility. Elves could just as easily be slain as men. I could just as easily have fallen as Aragorn.

The thought startled me for a moment. How strange that I would think of it that way. But then again, anyone could have been in Aragorn's or even my position. Why? Why did it have to be possibly the most important person fighting that hour?

It had indeed been a sorry hour. I found myself wishing with all I had that I could somehow turn back the clock, that I could put myself in his position instead. The thought that I would so readily sacrifice my own life like that startled me somewhat, and I remained fairly silent for the remainder of our discussion.

Gimli had resorted to drowning his sorrows, and rather loudly at that. If I had a pipe, I might have fumigated my sorrows, but it was not to be, instead, I had sat fairly motionless for a half-hour or so merely thinking. Thinking of what had been said, what my role now was. Some time ago, the Elf had left, leaving me with a Dwarf and an ale mug to converse with.

I got up, rather suddenly, and headed for a narrow, spiral staircase. I was sure it led onto some form of tower higher up, but at the moment I didn't really care.

It did, in fact, lead to a tower, situated some way towards the back of the fortress. And, to my surprise, was the same spot the only other pointy-eared immortal on the premises had sought refuge. Legolas looked up as I rounded the last flight of stairs, nodding to acknowledge my presence. There was a silence for a moment or so, before:

"How do you cope?" Another completely sincere query from the Elf. I looked at him questioningly. "How do you cope with…with loss?" Then it hit me, Aragorn was probably one of his only human friends. He probably had a hard time understanding the prospect of death like this. Of course, he was no stranger to battle, he would have seen comrades fall and even come close to death himself, but this was different somehow. There was not even a body to honour, not even the satisfaction of knowing he died in the midst of battle, bravely fighting on despite his wounds. But why was he asking me? Was it because I was around humans a lot? I thought that had to be it. The only places I could get supplies were small human villages to the north of Rohan. I was well acquainted with the idea of death. I had my own remedy, but I already sounded heartless enough as it was at times. Did I really want to tell him? I decided I might was well, better he hear it now then slowly and painfully discover it by himself.

"I don't." I replied simply. His forehead creased slightly, trying to comprehend the statement. "I don't know many people whose loss I would have to 'cope' with." I averted my eyes. "Lord Elrond, perhaps, maybe even Haldir, but no humans. That's how I cope. I never put myself in a position where I would have to 'cope.'" I sighed, lowering my head, not daring to meet his eyes. "One piece of advice, learned well through many unpleasant experiences: Never get close to anyone. Never form steadfast friendships, never make too many friends, never let anyone too close, never fall in love. Things never last, one way or the other, they're always taken away." I surprised myself with that declaration. But it was true. Those were the laws I had lived by for decades, centuries, millennia. They had never steered me wrong, I never grieved for anyone, I had learned a long time ago it made no difference, they were gone whether you liked it or not, and crying wouldn't help.

"That's no way to live your life." He said. My head shot up. " Of course, if you never get close to anyone, you will never have to grieve for their loss. But…sometimes, isn't the time you spent together worth that pain?"

I had never thought about it like that before. He was right, looking into his eyes, I could see that, even through the grief, he would never have given up having met the ranger. However, things weren't the same for me. I was never that close to anyone to care for them so. In fact, the closest thing I had to a best friend was my horse. I would have grinned with the thought if not for an Elven prince studying my expression intently.

"Perhaps." I stated cryptically. "But you live a far different life to mine. I have seen too many trusted friends and allies die before me as I stood there, powerless to help them."

"And what of your parents, how did you cope with their loss?" It wasn't a heartless question, simply an honest one, however tactless.

_'…daddy…' _The thought sent my eyes burning with something in between rage and sorrow. "I didn't. I never have." I replied in a this-conversation-is-over tone. He nodded, understanding. I rose to my feet, and headed towards the narrow staircase, wanting to be alone. There was too much happening all at once, too many memories surfacing coldly. My eyes stung. Why?

I was in the Hornburg now, making my way slowly but surely to the walls of the fortress, a somewhat secluded area someway down the great gate. Here I could think.

I went to Rivendell with the sole purpose of delivering a message, and leaving, for good. How, then, did I get dragged into this? Why did I let myself be led so easily into a war between humanity and Uruk-Hai? The thought frustrated me. I had no destiny other than to be born, live, and die. Alone. It couldn't have been fate, nothing like that, that was reserved for important people.

'_Like Aragorn._'

Perhaps fate had made a mistake? This couldn't be the end. The more I thought about it, the more I found myself denying it. It just… it just didn't _feel_ right. I looked over the horizon, the rocky land we would be fighting to protect. For what? So the people would live through the night only to be crushed underfoot as Sauron advanced?

It just wasn't right.

And neither was that black speck on the horizon moving towards the fortress slowly. I did a double take, squinting in an attempt to make out the identity of the speck. Scraggy black hair, or at least in this light, a dark brown horse, dark clothing, a strange slumped position in the saddle. It couldn't be…could it? A minute or so of squinting and shading my eyes from the sun confirmed what I had been hoping so wishfully. I dared to breathe.

"…Aragorn…"


	17. Mortal

A.N. We apologise for the following…:

1. The majority of the Two Towers bit will be Movieverse. We had already planned out this part in our little heads before we saw the movie, but it wasn't very good. When we saw the film, after much squealing, we found that things came together a lot easier by using the movie's record of events. Sorry for canon fans.

2. The lack of Romance for the time being. There will eventually be romance, and it will be well-done. These things take time, if romance is rushed (e.g. eyes-meet-across-a-crowded-room-love-at-first-sight) it always (generally) ends up sounding bad. Plus, there will be a few…erm…complications…oops, said too much…

3. The constant change of POV. All 1st person is Yunalesca, and means a change in 3rd person POV (or jumping ahead a little in the space-time continuum). If you can't figure out who it is, then you're not supposed to.

4. The fact that we go in and out of Edoras in a chapter. Sorry, but we REALLY want to get on to our original storyline. These bits before are just there so we can develop Yuna's character a bit.

_'…Waiting for the moon to come and light me up inside _

_And I am waiting for the telephone to tell me I'm alive _

_Well I heard you let somebody get their fingers into you _

_It's getting cold in __California_

_I guess I'll be leaving soon _

_Daylight fading _

_Come and waste another year _

_All the the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear _

_Moonlight creeping around the corners of our lawn _

_When we see the early signs that daylight's fading_

_We leave just before it's gone…'_

_Counting Crows Daylight Fading_

Chapter fourteen Mortal

It was late in the afternoon of our third day in the saddle when the faraway shadow of the Golden Hall became less than ten minutes riding away. As it neared ever closer, I recalled where exactly it was that I had acquired the beast working tirelessly beneath me. It was their own fault, really, they should have known that she wouldn't say in the stable if they left the door open. Well, she was mine now, anyway. I doubted she'd want to go back to the Edoras stables in any case, and there was no _way_ they would be able to make her do anything of the kind, so I was safe.

I remembered what had happened earlier, and grimaced at the thought. I had cried. _Cried_. Even if it was only a single tear, I still cried in front of a group of men whom will henceforth view me as nothing more than a weak woman. I was furious with myself. How could I have let that happen? Had those blasted Hobbits made me go soft? I hoped not, if I was going to turn into a blubbering perpetual twenty-five year old, I may as well stay home and knit or whatever it is women are supposed to do in their spare time.

But on the other hand, I suppose I had a right to feel slightly emotional. I had never found out what happened to her, and it was strangely reassuring to have a little closure. It was warming to have that knowledge, even though I had a pretty strong feeling she'd died – not even the worst families can go three millennia without contact. Another strange thing that hadn't struck me until a little while ago was the fact that she was buried. I wondered who would care so much as to bother with making any form of memorial. We had never been very popular in the village. The people weren't used to peculiar Elvish folk, and my mother had been one of the queerest.

I decided not to think of it at the moment. I didn't wish to become all weepy again. Besides, we were nearing Edoras and I needed to clear my head. Something told be we weren't going to be able to simply walk in and demand to see the king, if what I had gathered about Theoden's current state was anything to go by.

A flag swerved in the wind and circled dramatically before flying downwards, landing a small distance from Túlka's hooves. Gandalf in his blinding white attire went through the annoyingly small gates first, then Aragorn clad in the latest ranger fashion of every shade of black held together my a good caking of mud. Legolas with his nauseatingly blonde hair and Gimli with his frizzy red…mess, went after. I trotted up last, my hood covering my hair, but not shadowing my face as it usually would. People shot us odd glances. Puzzled and curious as to why we were there. It was nothing I wasn't used to, but clearly that was not the same for our dear little Dwarf friend, who mumbled something about the general mood of the city. He was right. The people scattered around looked as if we came bearing news that the armies of Saruman were due to arrive in just under five minutes. Well, close enough.

We dismounted and I was forced to involuntarily hand over the reigns of my beloved horse to a convenient scabby stable hand who looked as if he had spend a little _too_ many Winters as a stable-hand. He eyed up Túlka suspiciously.

"Excuse me, milady, but…where does this fine mare hail from? She looks strangely familiar. I believe we had a similar example in these very stables just over fifteen years ago it must be. Do you know – it disappeared, just like that?" He asked, being oddly conversational. Yes, he had definitely been in this line of work far too long than is healthy. I Looked™ at him as if he had just asked if my hair was real.

"Yes, actually, as a matter of fact I'm so low as to resort to _stealing_ horses and I'm stupid enough to return to the scene of the crime just a few years later." It was a little colder than I had intended, but I couldn't let him know I wasn't being _wholly_ sarcastic. His drab, mousy curls flopped forward as he lowered his head in an apology.

"Forgive me, milady." He slunk away, clutching Túlka's reins as if they were made of spun mithril. I turned about to see the corners of Aragorn's mouth twitching knowingly.

"What?" I asked innocently, brushing past him. It wasn't as if I'd outright _lied_, just skipped around the truth a little. Túlka had got loose thanks to the errors of some ignorant stable boy, and had somehow found her way to the outskirts of Fangorn, where I had found her. I had taken an instant liking to her strong-yet-supple body and steady movements. I was hesitant to let her go when the Rohirrim came upon her a few days later, and she wasn't too anxious to go back either. The next time I had to journey to Edoras, I decided to take her with me on my way back. She was all too happy to leave, and as it was rather late in the evening, there weren't many people about to stop us. And that was how I came upon one of my favourite horses ever to be in my possession over the long years.

With that pleasant reminiscence over, I concentrated on the task of walking up the many (and unnecessary, I added as an afterthought) steps with legs that were still numb from riding. A man – Introducing himself as Háma – greeted us with an (equally unnecessary) entourage of guards.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame." He said, pointedly glancing at the weapons that adorned the company of five. "By order of…Grima Wormtongue." Now…that was something I had to take up an argument against. Gandalf had informed us of where Grima's loyalty lied, but wasn't it rather obvious? With a name like Grima Wormtongue, I would have thought people would have guessed he was evil beforehand. Or perhaps that was just me being overly cynical. But still…

I noticed Gandalf hand over Glamdring, and Aragorn reluctantly setting Andúril against the wall. He shot me a look. Fine, if he would let his precious sword-that-was-broken-but-now-isn't leave his side, I suppose I could part with my weapons for the time being. Noticing Legolas send another look my way, I nodded exasperatedly and began the long process of disarming myself. If I was going to be made to leave my weapons with some incompetent humans, then at least I'd make a point of doing it. Sighing deeply, I drew the daggers at my belt and handed them to the waiting armour-clad mortal in front of me. Two more long daggers materialised from under the folds of my cloak, strapped to my back. The two thin knives strapped on my boots and another one about my thigh joined these in the arms of the human, struggling to hold them all and look vaguely dignified at the same time. I almost grinned at the memory of a young Hobbit searching for the leather strap, a blissful grin etched on his face.

Memories forgotten for now, I took off the short sword about my waist and handed it to another guard, whom had come to the first's aid. Perhaps they weren't so unnecessary, then. Into his hands also went the battered crossbow and the object of destruction I had lovingly dubbed: insert vaguely funny and possibly ironic name for Claw-Thing here. That left the newly entitled Luccrecía strapped in an ornate sheathe about my back. I made a large movement, unstrapping the sheathe and bringing it around, noticing not without pleasure the way eyes followed its movements. It was wrapped and tightly bound in a soft cloth, I made sure to hold the hilt firmly and pass it uneasily to the guard, dually noting the way he seemed afraid to handle it, even with the faded cloth separating his no-doubt filthy hands from the sheathe.

And that was it…but wait, they had asked for _all_ the weapons, hadn't they?

Ah well, I reflected, at least this will give me a few seconds of entertainment at the look on their faces. And with that, I thrust my shoulders back and pushed my chest up, catching the bemused looks from the men surrounding me. One hand slid down my…erm…cleavage with ease, searching for the weapon kept there when I _really_ had nothing else. My fingers grasped the hilt loosely, and I attempted to drag it out…but to no avail. It dropped back in as smoothly as it had almost come out. Cursing softly, I dug my hand in a little deeper and a little harsher than before, cradling my bosom with the other hand…success! The two-inch blade revealed itself and made a satisfying clink as I dropped it onto the small pile of weapons. I looked up and realised I was on the receiving end of a number of stares, most were just a mask of utter confusion, although some of the younger guards looked as if they were about to ask me if I needed a hand. Háma waved this off with an air of expertise, and returned to the subject at hand.

"Your staff." He asked somewhat reluctantly.

"You would part an old man with his walking stick?" Gandalf asked, mildly horrified that he would do such a thing. Háma hesitantly yielded, letting us pass without much more incident.

The Doors closed behind us, and a claustrophobic lump formed in my throat before I had time to swallow it. I hated being in a room surrounded by men at the best of times. But this room _smelt_. Legolas noticed, I saw him wrinkle his nose slightly, but other than that, that was it. It smelt of sweat worked up from a long days riding, the faraway scent of raw meat drifted pleasantly to my nostrils, already bombarded from the old leather and animal skins that adorned the floor, walls, and most of the people in the room. I heard the doors being locked, and momentarily stiffened. The people around us were dressed pretty much the same. Tunics, some with helmets, arm guards, shields strapped to their backs, swords at their sides, a confident-turned arrogant air that seemed to radiate off all men in these parts. And there I was, in a room full of them. And they weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were staring. I walked silently behind Legolas and Gandalf, keeping as inconspicuous as possible, although that was hard in my current situation.

One person, however, stood out easily enough from the crowd. Standing next to the overly moth-bitten king was a…man? I assumed it was a he, anyway. His skin was a sickly pale colour, with an almost greenish tinge about the edges of his face. His eyes were deep-set and shallow, framed by a good inch of bags. His hair was black and slick with grease, hanging about his face in a tangled mess. I absently identified him as Grima Wormtongue. He fitted the description easily enough. The king – it was obvious who he was – looked dangerously ill. His face was pale from lack of sunlight, his hair was a ball of grey frizz, he seemed almost…mouldy? No, that wasn't the right word, but it seemed to fit…

_Saruman_ I reminded myself. It was strange how rapidly he had moved from being a friend to a foe in my mental filing cabinet. One moment it seemed he was content to walk throughout the trees in Fangorn, caring about the forest, and the next, he had morphed into a servant of Sauron, falling trees without a second thought and destroying the once beautiful area around Isengard. I remembered my thoughts on Grima, and then thought about Saruman. _Eyebrows to rival Gandalf's, long, talon-like nails, deep, menacing voice…_ Perhaps there might have been a _slight_ indication that he was due to switch loyalty.

"The courtesy of your Hall has somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." Gandalf boomed, his voice resounding around the hall. Wormtongue whispered something into the old King's ear, glaring openly at us.

"Why…should I welcome you…Gandalf Stormcrow…" Theoden croaked out with some difficulty.

"A just question my liege." Grima said, coming forward. "Late is the hour in which this _conjurer_ chooses to appear." His lips were dark, almost black as he spoke, his tongue flicking over every syllable. "_Láthspell_ I name you. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent." Gandalf commanded, interrupting. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." He raised his staff, narrowing his eyes at the man before him.

"The staff!" Grima hissed. "I _told_ you to take the wizard's staff!" And that was it. The crowds of men around us came flowing towards us, hands to the hilt of their swords. Legolas and Aragorn broke away from Gandalf, and dealt with the men coming towards them, shielding the wizard as he worked his magic on the King. A few came at me also, determined to gain the upper hand. It was now that I wished I had not given up _all_ of my weapons, but I was more than competent at hand-to-hand combat as well. A backhand and roundhouse kick dealt with two that had made their way towards me. I dodged a feeble blow by one, and backed into none other than Legolas whom was busy fending off others. At least with him behind me I didn't have to worry about a back attack. A well aimed punch put off another, and his accomplice was soon disarmed by a deft flick of my wrist on his, and was pushed away by my boot heal connecting with his chest.

"Theoden, son of Thengel," Gandalf began.

Somehow, Legolas and I had changed positions, and I was now facing the weary-looking king whilst fighting off his subordinates.

"Too long have you sat in the shadows."

Grima made for a hasty exit, but a quick yank on his billowing cloak sent him skidding across the floor to a waiting Gimli, where a Dwarven boot was stuck firmly on his chest.

"Hearken to me!"

Success! I had finally managed to steal myself a good sword from the men around me, and I was now making good use of the sheathed weapon, causing enough damage to certainly stun my attackers, but nowhere near enough to kill or seriously injure. But I had little time to make use of my newly acquired weapon, by now those in the hall had given up and were standing by to watch the events unfold.

"I release you from this spell." His hand was raised in a strange fashion, a faint boom echoed around the stone halls. His head was bowed. And then something strange happened. The old king slowly rose his head and began to laugh. It wasn't so much a laugh as a deep, throaty crow, but that was the general idea. I looked to Aragorn, who appeared just as confused as I.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey." His eyes held a maddened glint, he wasn't himself, that much was certain. He was grinning maniacally, his fuzzy hair rustling slightly.

And then something else happened. Gandalf looked almost insulted, and countered this by throwing off his old grey cloak and letting the blinding whiteness of his robes do the talking for him. Theoden's laugh turned to more of a cry as the cloak hit the ground. Gandalf said something, but this was lost to my ears as a woman rushed forward. Curious as to how events would unfold, I grasped her arm and held her back.

She spun round to look at me, and my breath almost caught in my throat. She was…beautiful. Arwen was as dark and as fair as the night sky, but this woman was as lovely and as radiant as the day. Her long, blonde – I thought to myself just how much of a cliché that was – hair fell in waves about her perfectly sculpted hips. The white dress and silver belt about her waist accentuated her flawless figure, and her face did nothing to let it down. Her eyes, now that was something else altogether. They were of the deepest azure, wide and cold as ice, now fringed with curiosity as her gaze bored into mine.

"Wait." I managed, tearing my attention away from her and onto the scene unfolding. She regarded me strangely for a moment before turning to Theoden.

"If I go…Theoden dies!" He hissed, never breaking eye contact with Gandalf. The former thrust his staff forward, effectively pinning the king down with magic.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" Theoden struggled against the magic's grip, forcing his face into a sneer as he glared at Gandalf.

"Rohan is _mine_!" And that did it for Gandalf, the King was shoved against the back of his throne, grimacing in what I expected was pain.

"Be gone!" Gandalf rebuked whatever demon was plaguing Theoden's mind. Suddenly he leapt forward from his chair, growling, but was pushed back down again as Gandalf raised his staff once more. The glint left Theoden's eyes, and became one of pure and utter confusion. This lessened slightly as he glanced around him. Then suddenly a great weariness overtook him, and he plunged forward. The woman yanked her arm from my grip – and, I had to admit, she was stronger than I had thought – and ran to the King's side, catching him and propping him back up. Her large freakishly blue eyes stared into his desperately, searching for some light of recognition. His face seemed to crawl back into itself until it resembled the king he once was.

"I know your face." He stated, staring at the woman, a look of recollection dawning on him as the last of his white beard shrivelled. He smiled suddenly. "Eowyn." He breathed as she cupped his face, beaming. "Eowyn..." He repeated, relishing the moment. The two broke apart, and their eyes rested on the wizard. "Gandalf." Theoden acknowledged him gratefully.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." With some difficulty, the king managed to rise from his throne, golden circlet glinting in the unseen light. It was as if a fanfare of trumpets was playing in the background. The men around me seemed in awe of this wizard whom had restored their king to his old self. Not a word of apology to the four they had tried to viscously attack not two minutes ago. As people crowded around the unfolding scene to watch Theoden try and remember how to hold a sword, I felt it best to skulk away into the background slightly. One person wouldn't be missed after all.

The woman – Eowyn, I gathered – tore her gaze away from her monarch to the area of the shadows that I had just decided to slink away to. Her eyes rested on me for a brief, brow-furrowing moment, before turning back to the days events, following as Theoden and his soldiers, whizzing around him like electrons, headed outside. I went to the door so I would just be able to see what unfolded. Wormtongue was hurled down the steps in a rather unfriendly fashion – as it usually is – as he struggled to some kind of half crawl to the bottom, trying to get away from an advancing Theoden.

He was actually going to kill him. I can't say the little bugger deserved to _live_, but to die like that was a bit much…wasn't it? I let them get on with it. I had never understood humans, and if this was how they solved their grudges, so be it. It wasn't like I was about to complain in any case. I spoke too soon it seemed though. Just as the deathblow was about to be struck, the hero of this particular tale started forward and stayed the king's hand.

"Enough blood has been spilt on his account." I had to raise an eyebrow at that. It appeared the dunadain had actually had a little sense forcibly knocked into him. Whether I liked it or not, my opinion of him rose just a few millimetres. Something amongst the dusty cobwebs of my mind clicked. Blood. Weapons. My weapons. In care of grubby humans. As the people migrated away from the scene, I made my way over to the wall where our weapons had been stacked. It wasn't as if anyone would want to stop me in any case, and even if they did, they wouldn't really have much of a chance.

I sheathed my small army of knives and daggers, moving on to the rarer weapons. Luccrecía had been propped delicately against the wall, the cloth hadn't been moved in the slightest. I couldn't help but smirk slightly. I had instilled enough fear into the poor soldier for him to be scared of touching my weapon. I was good at doing that to people. It was an acquired art. As I finished strapping it onto my back and fastening my drab grey cloak, I noticed Eowyn from the corner of my eye. There was that look again. A mixture of curiosity, puzzlement and strangely enough, admiration. Now that was something I hadn't seen in a while, but then…something else caught my attention. Her stance was bold and sure. She didn't look at all like the floaty elf maidens of Rivendell or Lorien, no, she was different somehow. Then it struck me. She was a warrior. That was the spark in her eyes, the hidden strength in those thin arms, the pride in her stance. They all spoke volumes about her. She was still looking at me. I turned to meet her gaze, and gave her a look that was oddly non-malicious as she jumped slightly.

"My lady?" I inquired, using perfect courtly manners I had picked up. I suppose she was my superior, being the king's niece, but then again, I was the only non-Ent and non-shrubbery to take up residence in the Forest of Fangorn. If Mirkwood and Lorien could b counted as kingdoms, so could Fangorn, on the basis of those two facts I could always claim monarchy if the urge presented itself (And I had to admit, it didn't). It was an entirely stupid and random thought, but there you go.

She stood there, staring transfixed for a while longer. "I…oh, forgive me. Would you care for a bath?" It was obviously not what she wanted to say, but it was a decent attempt to cover it up. I played along, not so much for her, but for the fact that the word 'bath' brought a joyful unshed tear to my eye.

"That would be _most _welcomed." I replied, struggling to keep my unusually polite voice from becoming tinged with longing. She nodded and I turned back to my weapons as she beckoned a random woman clad in dull beige forward.

"Milady?" What? Oh, yes, the bath. I turned to meet her rather vacant gaze. "Follow me."

By Ilúvatar that felt amazing. My hair was untouched – there was no way I was going to face the amoral frizz that was sure to strike the second I took out my head of braids – and was still held up in a messy yet secure thing resembling a bun. I had managed to get my clothes suitably clean, and as I stepped out of the bathing room, not only did I look a lot better, I felt a lot better too.

Of course, this was all before I stepped back into the main hall. It was late in the afternoon, nearing nightfall, the sun was just dipping below the horizon. There seemed to be some sort of commotion near the – I suppose it was a palace – doors, so I investigated.

As I descended the steps, I saw a haggard looking horse being led into the stables by the same ratty stable hand. It was as I neared the small huddle of soldiers that a piercing wail took over my ears. A young human boy was being carried by Háma into the palace, while an even younger girl – she couldn't have been much more than four or five – was staring after him, eyes creased and red, mouth open and bawling, fists clenched unwavering at her sides. She started after him, but was caught by a soldier, who attempted to pick her up. She kicked away from him, and half dove, half was shoved into the nearest woman's arms. Mine. Wonderful. I now had a screaming child in my arms, and all the warriors around me were backing away as if the whole scene had nothing to do with them.

It was at this point that Screaming Child looked up, abnormally large blue eyes boring into mine with a fixed look of determination. Her frizzy blonde locks were tangled and strewn across her face by the wind. She stopped screaming and slowly worked her way down to sniffing.

"They – _sniff_ – they took my – _sniff ­_– brother –_ choke, sob, sniff._" Sniffing Child said, speaking as if they had just proclaimed they were going to roast her family on a spit and have her for desert.

"They are just going to make sure he is alright." I said in the most soothing voice I could manage without shattering my windpipe. I didn't have much experience with dealing with children first hand. I supposed that a calm tone and a lot of improvisation might work. "Do not worry, I am sure you shall be able to see him shortly." Sniffling Child nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "What is your name?"

"Tel…Telnariel…" She said. Telnariel. Interesting. Her parents must have liked elves. There were an increasing number of children with Elvish-sounding names. It was becoming a trend, scarily enough. Most people were under the illusion that elves were all beauty, grace, and mystery. Well, true, most of them were, but that wasn't the point. Never mind. As soon as Aragorn stopped trying not to laugh out loud at my predicament, I was going to take little Telnariel inside and…give her to the nearest maid. I couldn't handle children. They never seemed to like me. Which was good, because I never really liked children. Much.

Pointedly ignoring Gimli and Aragorn's stares, I turned on my heel, Telnariel clinging to me like a barnacle, and marched inside, muttering random Elvish more to myself then to her.

Once inside, ridding myself of Sniffli…Telnar proved harder than I had thought. First of all, I had to find a convenient maid and dump my charge on her. Or him. Whatever I came across first.

The first person I happened across was none other than the Lady Eowyn. I sighed inwardly, hoping she wouldn't mind.

"Lady Eowyn." I called after her before she could disappear into the corridor. She turned round to see me awkwardly holding the child in my arms. "Could you…" She started towards me, probably already guessing what I had in mind. "…do something about this." Her face had brightened a little, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was already reaching out to take the child into her arms.

"Is this the boy's sister?" I nodded. "He is still passed out, I am afraid." As her arms curled around Telnariel, the girl tightened her death-grip around my chest.

"I want to stay with the strange elf-lady." She mumbled, burying her face into my top. No, no she didn't. She wanted to go with Eowyn. She just didn't know it yet.

"Go with Lady Eowyn, I'm sure she can do something with you." Oh dear, she looked up at me with massive blue pools that were misting over with tears. Her bottom lip quivered.

"Where is mother?" She asked, changing the subject entirely. "She said she would meet us here, but she isn't here is she?" She pleaded. "She said take the horse, and me and my brother were to come to Edoras and…and…" She broke off, hurling her face at my neck, sobbing furiously. I could do nothing but stroke down her hair absently as she cried.

A memory of times long forgotten ran through me…

flash

_"But mother, why do I have to go?" A small voice asked, a child, no more than seven. Fear tinged and riddled with uncertainty. _

_"Just trust me. You must leave. Now. Before it is too late." Another voice. A woman, old, yet not aged. This was one who had seen more than her fair share of the world._

_"But…what about you?__ Are you coming too?" _

_"No, I…cannot." Regret and sadness were clearly evident._

_"Why not?__ I don't want to go by myself. I don't want to be alone…"_

flash

I snapped back to reality and stayed my hand that was cradling the child's head.

"I don't think she likes me very much." Eowyn said, the faint smile still on her pale lips. She turned her head slightly to see another random maid waiting. "Forgive me, I must be going." And then she was gone. Leaving me with Telnariel who was crying uncontrollably into my tunic. Fantastic.

And what had she called me? _Strange Elf lady?_I'd been called worse, but the way she'd said it indicated it was meant as a kind of warped complement. She probably hadn't seen many strange Elf-ladies. '_Although if she wants strange, maybe I could introduce her to Galadriel…'_ I banished the odd thought from my head. I was seaming to have a lot of those lately.

I soothed the child in my arms who had been reduced to sobbing feebly and wondered – not for the first time – what in Arda I was doing. I was a warrior, not a babysitter. And yet here I was. That seemed to be the story of my life for the past year or so. Uncertain of where I was going or what I was doing. Not knowing what I wanted or why, but doing things anyway. It all started one dreary _Firith_ morning as I rode my faithful mare into the safe haven of Rivendell…

Great. Telnariel had discovered my ears and was not hesitating to make herself rather annoying in a scarily cute sort of way. I assured her that, no, she most certainly could _not_ touch my ears as they were a lot more sensitive than a human's were. I suppose they were like a second pair of inner thighs. Not the whole ear, just the finely pointed tips. I wasn't about to give her a lecture on Elvish physique, so I tried my best to change the subject…which wasn't all that hard as Legolas walked in. If she liked elves so much, she should _love_ him.

"Look, there's another elf." I whispered, nodding my head in his general direction. He quirked one of his dark brows half in curiosity, half in amusement.

"Where?" Her blonde head whipped around to stare at him. She regarded him cynically and with all the aloofness that comes with being a young child before stating simply. "Oh, he's boring." The eyebrow shot up even higher.

"What do you mean he's boring? Certainly he's a lot more interesting than me." She tugged one of my braids.

"I like you."

Sweet lady Elbereth, no. Please no. She did not just say that.

The corner of the Elf's mouth curled up slightly.

Apparently, he had been sent to take the girl to her brother, whom had awoken. Upon hearing this news, she had jumped out of my arms and practically sprinted to the infirmary. I thanked my _hero_ with a Look™ and headed outside.

What? Had time suddenly leaped forward a couple of hours?

It was now nightfall, the fiery sunset was slowly fading from the horizon, and people were packing up for the night. I was too tired to be confused, and so instead I opted to just be indifferent to the whole situation.

I sat down on the steps, exhaling loudly. Why was I here? I tried to convince myself that I merely wanted revenge, but that was too simple. I wanted something deeper than that. I chuckled quietly at the sudden thought that presented itself. '_Yuna has a heart._' It said in a teasing voice. In truth, I was here because I didn't want to see people killed.

I had been witness to a colossal number of deaths, a lot of the time it was me doing the killing. Why did a few more bother me so?

I knew why.

Because these people did nothing to deserve it. Perhaps they were criminals by their own laws, but no crime save murder itself deserved death in my opinion.

Humans…as much as I was ashamed at some points to admit it, they were my people too. I had always been more Elvish than Human, it was easy to see which was the dominant race, but I had always envied the humans. They were so oblivious at times, even…clueless to the goings-on around them. Sort of like Hobbits, but not in the same way. Humans were well aware of the wars and conflicts of the world, but they could never just stand back from everything and just…

Stop. Just stop. Stop and take a look at the world around them. The beauty, the majesty, the care and preciseness with which every flower petal was constructed. It was all…I would say beautiful, but the word didn't seem to apply any more. More like…fading…

My muse on my purpose in life was interrupted by the silent steps that belonged to the only elf on the premises.

"Hello Legolas." I said without turning around.

"Yunalesca." He said back in his usual monotone, coming down to sit on the steps beside me. "You seem rather pensive this evening." How well discerned, considering I was staring off into space with a rather pensive expression on my face.

"Just pondering…things." I said cryptically. I could _hear_ the raised eyebrow. He was curious, but was far too well brought up to ask what I was thinking about. I could tell these things. "Do you feel it?" I asked suddenly, not too sure myself of where I was going with this particular line of conversation. It didn't strike me until later that I'd used this opening line once long ago, or so it seemed.

"What?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"Everything." I paused slightly. "The change in the world, in everything around us." There was another silence, one I filled with more of my endless reflections. "Every Spring that comes around, do you ever notice how the flowers never blossom as brightly as they did the year before? How the forest never looks as lush and green as it did the year before? The world is fading. Our time is coming to an end, and soon there will be none of our kind left." Wow, even I was impressed at how morbid that sounded.

"You wish for the sea?" Now _that_ was unexpected, but then, as I swished this proposal around in the tumble dryer of my mind, I understood.

"I do in a way. I wish to leave this place before…before there is nothing left. I have no wish to remain here to see the fall of Arda. Before the world has faded beyond recognition. Before it is too late."

"Why do you stay, then? Could you not have left long ago?" This was turning into an interrogation.

"I could have, yes, but I have reasons to stay." This was certainly not a subject I wished to get on to with the Prince of the Woodland Realm. Thankfully he noticed this, and asked no more on the matter.

It was a short while later that we were called inside to discuss matters with the king and Gandalf. I absently wondered why I was required. After all, it wasn't as if I was an expert on the subject of Uruk-Hai warfare. I knew how to kill them easily enough, but an army if it, indeed, was coming was another matter altogether. I remembered back to what Lord Elrond had said.

"…I believe that you would be a valued member of the discussion. I want you for your presence alone…"

That had confused me, but I hadn't really looked into it. Thinking was painful during this particular period of time, especially with the sleepless past few days. I decided to keep that particular exercise to a minimum and concentrated on just going with the flow.

Aragorn was idly rubbing the rim of his pipe. Dear Ilúvatar how I would kill for a pipe at the moment. I could smell the second hand smoke faintly from across the room. But that wasn't right, Elves didn't smoke. Yes, well peredhils weren't Elves, and they could do whatever the Hell they wanted. But I couldn't have one now, not with this…_child_ cradling her bowl of soup with one hand and clinging to me with all the fierceness of a five year old with the other. She seemed to be unaware of the fact that my hand had lost all life a long while ago and was now an interesting shade of lavender. There was some random discussion concerning the imminent doom of mankind going on in the background. My mind was concentrating on the slurping noises and occasional burp that came from the Dwarf as he finished the last of his ale.

I glared at the elf. Didn't these people eat? No, that was far too normal a thing for the great Prince of Mirkwood to do. Alright, so I was exaggerating a little, but it still annoyed me that he had chosen to practically cut off all non-essential contact with humans excluding those whom just happened to be the heirs of Isildur. He was even starting to make _me_ feel mortal. But then again, elves didn't generally associate with humans that much. And most humans tended to keep a safe distance from the mysterious fair folk.

But, as I was a woman, it was my right to bitch about anything I felt necessary. And, considering Pipeweed was just out of reach, all circulation to my hand had been firmly cut off, and I was being forced to sit and listen to something I had no say in, I would think it was necessary.

A.N. NOTE: _Firith_ is the season of late Autumn in the reckoning of Rivendell (Quellë for those of you who prefer Quenya) around the time of the council. Also, we are aware that Christianity is not a main religion in this particular plane of reality, and therefore why did we mention Hell? Because we can. There we go. And about the time thing? Author's Whim. Plain and simple.

Rai: Where do I begin? First of all, I'm sorry this chapter isn't very good, has a rushed ending, and is rather, um, late. But, I'm suffering from a little thing called manic depression coupled with chronic insomnia, ovarian cancer, a vicious cold, and PMS. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Things have just been rather crap for me lately. I get angry at my closest friends for no reason, and the tiniest things seem to drive a powerdrill through my head. Screaming into a pillow's always good. Very therapeutic. Oh, and by the way, I'm not actually here writing this, oh no, I'm revising. Of course I am.

Lilena: Thanks a lot for the review. It made me smile. Well done. We feel honoured to be on anyone's fave list, and that was a real boost for me to finish/start this chapter.


	18. Rain

'…I'm frightened by what I see  
but somehow I know that there's much more to come  
immobilised by my fear  
and soon to be blinded by tears  
I can stop the pain if I will it all away  
don't turn away  
don't give in to the pain  
don't try to hide  
though they're screaming your name  
don't close your eyes  
God knows what lies behind them  
don't turn out the light  
never sleep never die…'

Evanescence Whisper

Chapter 16: Rain

It had to be him; there was no mistaking it. And besides, who else could it be? Almost all the survivors were holed up in the back of the fortress. I could feel the adrenaline and relief flood through me, tingling at my fingertips. After a second of chest-tightening indecision, I acted, throwing myself from the wall and practically sprinting down the steps, narrowly avoiding the gaggles of townspeople as they watched, bewildered. One older man looked around, a glint of fear in his eyes. I concluded that he must have thought I'd seen an enemy, but I didn't have time to correct him. I was on auto pilot, flying through the stone valleys and watching as my feet took a detour to the makeshift stables.

"M'lad—" The stable hand started, but stopped, sensing my urgency. He opened his mouth again, presumably to point out my mare, but I silenced him by instead calling her name as I slowed to a jog. Túlka obediently trotted out, chewing uncomfortably at the too small bit that was swimming in her mouth. She sped up slightly, and as she neared me I turned, mounting her with ease as she cantered past. Without a glance to the stable hand, I was off.

The gates were opened slightly, ready to be shut and barred at a moment's notice. I picked my way through the small crowd that was assembled, ignoring them completely, and was through the gates.

There he was, slumped in the saddle of the majestic black-brown horse. He was still a way off but even so by now the watch would have spotted something resembling a man on a horse. I could see him clearly enough to know for sure that this was the man whom I had saw with my own eyes tumble off the cliff, taking the warg with him. The creature was half-walking, half-trotting, slowly making its way forward so as not to throw off his rider, who was still weak.

Aragorn's head lifted slightly, and he half-opened his eyes at the thundering of Túlka's hooves. They opened all the way when he caught sight of me, barely masking my relief at his appearance. I soon reached him, half way to the gates already. I didn't know why I had actually come out of the fortress, now that I had control of my body again. Now that I saw him, he wasn't at death's door, as I'd expected, apart from some scars and non-mortal wounds, there was nothing serious. But fatigue was evident in everything, the diminished glow in his eyes, his posture, his mouth open slightly, even his breathing was irregular and forced.

I reached out with one hand to steady him as he veered dangerously to the left. I didn't know what else to do, so I carefully nudged the horse – I recognised it, but the name escaped me – into a slow canter, holding onto the ranger's arm to prevent him from falling off altogether. I knew better than to try anything else, he was injured and needed some attention soon, but I would not do anything to damage his pride. He was the future king of men. The last hope. It was almost too much to believe again the fairytale ending that I had started to consider before as I watched him now, eyes shut in an attempt to conserve energy. It may hurt him to go faster, but not as much as seeing him ambling along slowly would hurt the people's trust.

As we neared the gates, he shrugged me off – but not in a rude way – and took hold of the reigns himself. I understood perfectly. He didn't try to explain to me because he knew that I understood perfectly. If the people saw him cantering in triumphantly, despite his wounds and all evidence of his death, it would send morale soaring. Something the elderly mercenaries desperately needed. I took backseat as he rode in front. Already I could hear the murmurs, whispers, unbelieving gasps.

_He couldn't be alive, could he? _

_He fell, off that cliff, didn't he? _

_At least, that's what I heard, how come he's here then? _

_Don't ask me, I don't know anything about it. _

_He certainly looks like him, though…_

The threads of conversation were shattered as a voice only describable as 'gruff' forced its way through the crowd.

"Where is he? _Where is he_? Get out of the way! I'm gonna _kill_ him!" The Dwarf's face flushed with relief as he entered the clearing. I had dismounted to give some focus to Aragorn, beckoning to the stable hand to take my horse back to the stables yet again. Aragorn then dismounted as Gimli carried on. "You are the…the luckiest, the trickiest…And the most reckless man I ever knew." He enveloped Aragorn's waist in a hug. "Bless you, laddie!" They broke apart, Gimli's neck strained upwards.

"Where is the king?" Aragorn asked. He looked uneasy, almost frightened. Of what, I couldn't be sure. Gimli nodded towards the doors at the back, and Aragorn strode purposely to the inner sanctum. Not wishing to see the happy and tearful reunions, I decided to retreat to the armoury below, intent on servicing my long neglected weapons. Unfortunately, this was not to be. Aragorn called my name as he saw me sidle away. I turned my head and he beckoned to me with a nod. "Come, I have some news to tell the king which I want you to hear also." I blinked. Strange, what could he know that concerned me?

I followed him up the steps and stopped myself from rolling my eyes at his dramatic and heroic entrance. After all, he probably didn't mean to be so dramatic. It came with the job description, after all. Heroes had to be a little dramatic at least. Nothing of the sort for me. I was no heroine, I had never done anything that even resembled posing – on purpose, anyway – there was, after all, little point in such things. Dramatics and posing only served to make people admire and women swoon. And I certainly had no desires to have any women swooning over me _any _time soon.

_'Ten thousand strong.'_ The words still echoed in my mind as I sat, running a cloth over the surface of an ornate scabbard. We had, what, two hundred, maybe three hundred warriors left? Against ten thousand? Every single odd was already against us. This only served to make my chest contract with a foreign feeling that I quickly identified as utter woe. I had gone into battle fully prepared to loose, to die before.

But this…this was a fairytale situation that even the bravest knight in the shiniest armour on the whitest horse possible wouldn't be able to face without some measure of fear. Wait, make that complete terror. It was a fact now, burning in my mind.

We were all going to die.

Hurrah.

By now I could just as easily be sailing along happily, the wind flinging salt water in my face as I made for the Undying Lands. I could still do it. I could rush to the stables for the second time today, mount my beloved horse, and leave. I could be at the shore in a matter of days, I could even go to the Grey Havens, set sail with other elves at the Gulf of Lhûn. Pass through the Shire one last time. The Blue Mountains, Ered Luin, Mithland, Tower Hills. And then I could leave. Escape all responsibility.

I felt disgusted with myself for finding the prospect attractive. How could I leave? Now? As the Uruk-Hai closed in on the people on Rohan? How could I leave them to die, to be slaughtered, knowing I could have done the right thing and stayed? There and then I made a lasting decision to remain and be killed. I would fight with every breath in my body, and I would die with a smile on my face, knowing that I had at least given everything I had to try and avert the doom of men.

The metal shimmered with a faint coloured light. The threads of engravings broadcasting the scabbard's worth. I'd almost forgotten about Luccrecía. She sat, almost neglected in the sheathe. It had been too long since I'd wielded her, and inside I hoped that I never needed to. The hidden power in the runes flowed through my veins as I caressed the hilt. There was an impressive-sounding noise of metal against metal, and with a subtle flourish, she was pulled out to greet the afternoon air in to armoury. There was no one else here; otherwise I doubt I would have unsheathed her at all.

If the scabbard was pleasing to the eye, the blade itself was a vision to behold. It was a light silver in colour, but one could just make out the sheen of somewhere between white light and sapphire as it moved with a barely audible swish. The kind of metal was unknown, although for something to survive for well over three thousand years with not even a mark or dent on it, it must be _quite_ valuable. Runes were visible on the sword in the right light, their meaning long forgotten to the years. Another oddity. Along the length of the blade were about eight or so arrow shaped chevrons, all the same size and distance apart, pointing to the finely sharpened tip. Most, if not all that looked upon the strange markings would conclude that it was simply a style, a smith's mark, a trend of the times. However, the secret did not go unknown to me.

I prayed I would not be forced to use it. Even though I knew I probably would.

"Luccrecía?" The clear Elven voice drifted towards my ears. I nodded.

"Yes, a sight, is she not?" I hoped he would not ask to hold her, it was a strange way to put it, and hard to explain, but Luccrecía didn't _like_ being held by others. She rejected them, the blade refused to do the owners bidding. Becoming heavy and sluggish in their hands, impossible to handle and even more impossible to use effectively.

To me, however, she was the ultimate sword. Light, yet with a certain brute strength, sharp as a blade ten times as slim, and on top of that, she seemed to move with me. She melded into my hand, did what I wanted without my brain even registering it. How difficult would that be to explain to an Elven prince?

"Beautiful." He agreed, walking closer, eyes running along her length. "A truly magnificent blade." I nodded again.

"Something amiss?" I asked, changing the subject briskly.

"Apart from the entire situation, no I don't believe so." What was this? The prince of Mirkwood attempting to crack a joke? Incredible. But then again, desperation does that to you.

"Then why did you come here? I know for a fact that I'm not very agreeable company." He shook his head slightly, as if to shrug off my remark.

"I find you are far better company than the endless parade of quivering soldiers with about an hour's battle experience." I agreed whole heartily with this point of view of course.

"I suppose so. It can be a little boring, even frustrating at times watching these 'men' fight, and fighting alongside them." I made sure the inverted commas were audible. "Once they get over the initial shock of, well, _me_, some of them even have the _nerve_ to suggest that I stay at the back, _out of harm's way_." I laughed humourlessly. He picked up where I was heading.

"Of course, if only they knew that there isn't a single person in this fortress you couldn't beat single-handedly." He paused, a smirk working it's way onto his usually sombre face. "Except for me obviously." My head shot up.

"Excuse _me_? Are you saying you could best me in combat?"

"Well, I should have thought as much would be rather comprehensible to a woman of your intelligence." I sat there, polishing cloth poised in mid-air, my mouth open slightly. '_oh_ dear…_if only he knew just how deep his little hole is getting…_"

"Pardon me, it seems my terribly disadvantaged human, nay, _female_ brain is struggling to comprehend this new turn of events…are you _challenging_ me? Because if you are, I'd be _more_ than happy to oblige." And then as an afterthought: "You have siblings, don't you? Because I'd hate to see the throne of Mirkwood without an heir at a time like this…"

"I am indeed challenging you, if that is what you wish. Perhaps if we make it through the night I shall show you just how deadly formal training can be."

"Ooh, _formal_ training, is it? I'm looking forward to this already." I grinned, my selective hearing blocking out the 'if we make it through the night' part. "And in turn I shall show just how much skills can improve over three thousand years of non-stop fighting for survival, your _highness_." I was on my feat by then, and swept my arm around in an extravagant bow.

It was at that exact moment, the elf's lips poised for a comeback, that the two sets of doors opened and the fighting population of Rohan swept in. I took off to a corner, not wishing to witness the inexpert manhandling of innocent swords that deserved no such fate.

"Farmer, fairies, stable boys." I could hear Aragorn's low voice over the gentle hum of uncertain conversation as he walked forward. He looked better now, rested slightly, the fatigue had left his eyes, his wounds had been healed, and he was ready for battle. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli added, looking around him.

"Or too few." Legolas quickly followed up. I turned to look at him. In those overly large cerulean eyes, I could see the carefully masked layer of what could have been disgust, pity, or even plain annoyance at the incompetence of the army. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." Now _that_ got me. It was perfectly true, every word, but it was one of those things that were better left unsaid. The hum of background noise stopped as the makeshift soldiers turned to look at him. He didn't seem to notice. Or care. _"Boe a hûn: neled herain, dan caer menig?" And they should be: 300, against 10,000?_

It was true, every single word. They were the thoughts running through my head, begging to be voiced, but I silenced them, kept my head down and carried on. '_At least he said it in Elvish, there's no need to get the soldiers morale any lower than it already is.'_ I could see Aragorn swishing this thought around his head, trying to think of something to defend the king's decision.

_"Si beriach a hýn. Amar na ned Edoras."_ That was true, they certainly _did_ stand a better chance in Helm's Deep then in Edoras. But it had raised the probability of their survival from 0 to 0.1.

_"Aragorn, men i ndagor.__ Hýn ú-gâr ortheri. Natha daged aen"_ My jaw clenched. He was right. Again. We stood no chance. I looked across the room. We _were_ all going to die, this was the last time any of them would see the sun set., the stars in the sky, their loved ones. It would all be taken away by the cruel inevitability of death. '_Not inevitable, you just made it that way._' Images of the sea flashed before my eyes…

Aragorn forgot his Elvish and simply finished with: "Then I shall die as one of them!" Drawing some odd looks from the army around them. He turned and fled the scene. Legolas attempted to follow, but was stopped by Gimli. Anger coursed through me. On impulse I grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a storage room in the back like a stubborn child, turning him round to face me.

"Just _what_ do you think you are doing?" I only realised once it had escaped my lips how much like a scolding parent I sounded. "What do you think grinding down the already shattered confidence in their leaders will accomplish."

"I spoke nothing of the truth."

"Sometimes, the truth is the one thing that people don't want, no, _need_ to hear." I turned away, my hand massaging my temple. "I know we won't last the night. I know for a fact that by the morning there will be no one left to fight for. But, I also know that there is still a chance. There is _always_ a chance, however slim, however insignificant, it's still there." I paused. "Remember…remember the council? Remember what I said back then?" He nodded slowly, his silence thoughtful. "I thought, I _knew_, just as we all do now, that there was no chance. I _knew_ in my heart that the fellowship was doomed to failure. I doubted you'd make it a week before you broke apart. But oh no, you had to go and prove me wrong, you lasted much longer than that. You got all the way to _Amon_ _Hen_ where you didn't break apart, but were _forced_ apart." I looked up, locking with his gaze. "I had no faith whatsoever in you, but you all pulled through anyway. And now here we are. There have been too many times when I have gone into battle, certain of my own death, and it hasn't happened yet has it? Sadly enough, I'm still alive, and so are you, and so is Aragorn."

"What are you getting at?" Coming from any other person, it would have sounded rude, callous, an offence punishable by Look™ to say such a thing. From him, however, he was simply curious. Elves had a way of making everything they said sound polite. It was times like these when I praised my human side for giving me my everlasting cynicism and sarcasm.

"You are his friend, one of the people he looks to. If you start doubting him as well as our entire situation…_empathise_ a little, how would you feel? This whole thing has been forced upon him, on you, on me, on everyone here. Being butchered by Uruk-Hai isn't exactly top of my list of things to do today, but here I am anyway. Here _we_ are, and there's not much left to do except see it through to the very end."

"You…you are right." He said after a little thought. "I shouldn't have said that to him, not now anyway…what was I thinking…" He stared at me in disbelief. '_His eyes are _really _blue_.' I thought absently. "I should…I should talk to him."

"Just reassure him that you trust him. He will fight better in that knowledge, I know this."

"Thank you, Yuna." He smiled, a simple quirk at the corners of his mouth, but it was enough. "I am glad you came with us." Now _that_ hit me like a three-ton bag of oliphaunt dung. Someone was actually _glad_ I interfered? I scanned it for sarcasm. It was clean. How incredibly unexpected and…well…odd…

So _this_ was where the people of Rohan waited out their dooms. The caves were dank, wet, uneven holes in the ground. Families – or what was left of them – huddled together to try and gain some sense of security. Eowyn was down here like the saint she was, reassuring and comforting. I didn't even know why I was down here. It was getting rather dull upstairs, though.

But now, as I looked around me, at the mothers, babies, young daughters, sons, all those that were left. I felt a strange feeling, a fierce protectiveness. It was then that I realised what I was fighting for. The right to live, the right to be born, live your life and die with dignity. This was something I clung to. It was all most people, including me, had, so why should anyone have the right to take it away from them? It wasn't fair. These people had done nothing wrong except live. And now the Uruk-Hai came along and violated every single right the civilians had.

They were frightened, they had no idea what was going on, only that there was a very small probability that any of them would survive. They didn't deserve this, the constant fear, not knowing, anxiousness. I realised how much I wanted to fight, how much I wanted to give my life helping them, but then I also realised that the best way for me to help them would be for me to stay right here. My presence alone might provide some comfort, if not some sort of distraction. They would probably be petrified at the sound of Uruk-Hai ramming their halberds and twisted scimitars into the earth. For someone to be there, to comfort them, that would help the people far more than I could on the battlefield. One more fighter would not make a difference, but if I stayed in the caves, I might be able help them emotionally, which would be far more valuable in the long run.

My mind made up, I headed to the surface, more to see the preparations than anything else. As I ascended the jagged path, I caught snippets of a conversation from behind the door of the first room I came to.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair." I smiled, glad at the turn of events so far, hoping that things went this smoothly through the night, but inwardly knowing they wouldn't.

"_There is nothing to forgive, Legolas._" I knew he'd say that. I entered the room just in time to see a pathetically manly grasp of the shoulders and a disgruntled Dwarf pulling the "_Confounded!"_ chain mail over his head. My eyes widened. Across his chest were two rather large lumps of something under the chain mail, which bore a frightening resemblance to—

"It's a little tight across the chest!" He declared. I stifled a snort, keeping my face stoic as I recalled a previous conversation…

'"_Gimli, are _you_ a woman?"'_

My already tanned face reddened considerably. I decided that I would rather be left highly uncertain than find out the most obvious way. The red disappeared from my face and instead I just shuddered. That thought wasn't funny, embarrassing or even plausible. It was just _wrong_.

My very wrong thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a horn, clear and crisp in the night air.

"That is no Orc horn." Legolas stated, presumably to enlighten his Dwarven acquaintance. I knew than sound. From where, that was another issue, but I knew that sound wasn't generally associated with my immediate and unfortunate bloody death.

Well _that_ was a relief.

It was on this knowledge that I followed Legolas and Aragorn outside, up the steps and pushing past the uncertain soldiers. There, helmets gleaming, robes flawless, faces solemn, were a troop of Elves, the white banner flying proudly above them an indication of their homeland.

I couldn't stop the grin from asserting itself on my face as I spotted the leader. Haldir of Lorien. They ground to a halt, Haldir having quiet words with king, and glancing up at Aragorn, who threw his arms around the elf in a distinctly relieved hug. Haldir responded after an awkward moment or six. He glanced to me and his eyes widened in surprise, he lowered them quickly to King Theoden as he made his appearance. He was probably afraid I'd try to kiss him or something. I had thought about it, but decided to allow him to retain some measure of dignity in front of his soldiers.

The Elves' heads turned towards me in unison. As one, they turned about to face me, their weapons lowered. They stood at attention for a while afterwards. I felt mildly chuffed, that is, until I realised they had performed this little display on behalf of the Prince of Mirkwood. He simply nodded. I still held onto a little of my pride as I noticed the awed faces of the soldiers. They knew that before them, here stood _warriors_. Battle-hardened fighters who could best any one of them. And they were to be fighting along side them. I felt pride swell in my stomach, only then realising that I had moved behind Haldir and now stood next to Legolas, looking very noble and self-sacrificial.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more." I was fully aware of the attentions of every soldier on the walls focused on the Elves.

Soon after, they had positioned themselves on the walls, and were ready to fight. Aragorn, who was giving out orders, turned to me.

"Yuna, if you could cover the lower left wall—"

"No, I…" That didn't sound very noble _or_ self-sacrificial. "I…wish to remain in the caves. With the women and children." He gave me a steely look of utter disbelief. "Hear me out, I…"

"After all the trouble I went through to ensure practically the best fighter we have gets her place on the walls." He shook his head. "This isn't like you at all. Why would you want to stay in hiding?"

"Do not think I am afraid, far from it, if anything I wish to be on the walls, fighting for the lives of everyone here."

"Then why don't you?"

"Think about it, one less fighter will not alter the outcome of the battle, but if I can stay in the caves…" To me, my own words never sounded so stupid and unsure. "…perhaps I can at least offer some sort of comfort to the people there. You know? Keep them calm, hopeful, that sort of thing. And who knows, if all else fails and the Hornburg is breached, I may be able to hold them off – the corridor is narrow, they could only come through one by one – long enough for the people to get away." My eyes dropped to the floor. "I would happily die for such a thing."

"One less of these not-quite-soldiers wouldn't affect the outcome, you're right, but you are worth twenty or thirty of them at least. But I can see your mind is made up and I shall not pressure you any further." I nodded, then a thought kicked off in my crowded head.

"What did you say before? Trouble?"

"Aye. The very _idea_ of a _woman_ pretending to be capable of defending the walls is completely absurd." He smiled, a rare occurrence in these times.

"What about before, when I…oh never mind, I must be getting to the caves."

"Wait…" He started. "Just…wait until they arrive, then go down. That way you can tell the others what the situation is."

"I think I can make a pretty accurate guess, but if it makes you happy, _Estel_, then I shall stay 'til the Uruk-Hai arrive, which…" I threw a glance over his shoulder, "…shouldn't be too far off." There were blotchy points of yellow light in the distance. The assaulted earth battered by the heavy boots of the Uruk-Hai berserkers.

He nodded gravely, the hint of a grimace crossing his face as a clap of thunder echoed across the night sky. It was a few seconds before the heavens let loose a torrent of rain upon the land. I felt my hair plaster itself to my head, a few drops cascading down my nose and dropping rather surreptitiously down my top. I unconsciously hauled it up as I turned away to better face the approaching army.

It was like a scene from every fairytale imaginable. Thunder booming arrogantly overhead, veins of light illuminating the sky, rich with heavy black clouds that were releasing unrelenting rain on the earth. The heroes would fight valiantly 'til the end, eventually emerging victorious. But this was no fairytale. I had been shown that time and time again, the fact flaunting itself like a Bree harlot.

"Any thoughts?" He asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on the horizon, unwavering.

"Hmm?" He'd interrupted my train of thought. I realised after a moment that he wanted the truth. He knew that was all I'd give him anyway. So many people were telling him we would win, we would lose, there was no hope, we would fight and emerge triumphant. So many conflicting opinions. All he wanted was someone to tell him straight, what they thought our meagre chances amounted to.

"I think that the ground will be muddy soon." I started after a while, he looked at me strangely, thinking that that was _all_ I had to say on our situation. I ignored him and continued:

"Good, that will put us at least at a little bit of an advantage. That's one of the very few we have. The numbers aren't _so_ bad after all, at least, if you take the fact that we will be taking them down by the hundred with our brand new Elven archers and the unsure Rohan folk, armed with short bows. It won't be _so_ bad if we manage to hold the wall and gate alike. There is no way they will be able to breach the wall. The one weak spot is useless to them, anyway. They will have to go through the gate. That will cost them hundreds, probably more. Thousands will fall before any real hand-to-hand fighting takes place. They have the advantage there, if only by sheer numbers and skill. That's where you have to be careful." He listened in silence, slowly nodding and uttering his thanks at the end. The Uruk-Hai were almost here now. Their shields glinting like a madman's eyes in the light of the thunderclaps and barely visible moon and torches. "I shall take my leave. Good luck to you, you'll need it."

'…I would hate for this 'Fellowship' of yours to leave this place with false confidence. Good luck…You'll need it…' I tried to ignore the surfacing memory, pushing it down to join its forgotten friends in my mental filing cabinets.

"Thank you." He said, a hint of regret passing through his voice.

"And…" I forced the next few words out. They were rarely heard passing my lips with any kind of sincerity. But I felt that this occasion deserved such a thing. "I'm…I'm sorry." He seemed to guess how foreign the words were to me, and remained solemn.

"So am I." With a final friendly grasp of his shoulder, I turned and headed for the caves. The Uruk-Hai were pounding on the ground with their weapons. Creating the illusion that there were hundreds of thousands of the creatures against the rather pathetic number of humans and Elves.

I could hear the sound of a baby wailing and a mother hushing the child as best she could as I descended the rough steps. My boots were practically silent against the floor, so it was no great wonder that there was a collective rustling to look in my direction as I made my appearance known by answering the question on most of their lips.

"It's just their weapons." They looked. "The Uruk-Hai pound them on the earth as an intimidation tactic." There was some sort of general sigh of relief. "The battle hasn't started yet. You'll know when it has." I finished with a note of finality. Those milling around the caves turned back to whatever it was they were doing beforehand.

"Yunie?" Said a sickeningly cute voice from somewhere near my foot. I looked down to see little Telnariel tugging on my cloak.

"Hello there." She was happy now. I had seen her with her mother earlier. She had waved to me sweetly as I arrived back at the fortress after the warg attack. I was happy she'd found her mother after all that. Even if my new nickname was rather horrendous.

"Telnariel, why don't you go back to your mother and leave the Lady and I to speak?" Telnariel did just that. She skipped away to where her mother sat, one foot idly trailing in a small pool of water. "My Lady, I…"

"Stop. My name is Yuna, or Yunalesca, whatever. I am no Lady, so please do not address me as such."

"Then I am just Eowyn." She replied. I nodded. "Mila—uh, Yuna…I need to know…what are our chances? Seriously, no one is telling me anything, and it's driving me mad." I chuckled. She reminded me of a much younger me, far too much for my comfort.

"I just told Aragorn not ten minutes ago of what I thought of the situation. But I'll tell you this: It will take a miracle for us to survive this." I had instinctively hushed my tone. "Not just because of numbers either. Their fighters are strong, fearless. They have no qualms about sacrificing a thousand of their soldiers in order to breach the gates. When they do get through…I pray to Illúvitar that we have taken down enough of their number to stand a fighting chance. Each soldier would have to kill thirty of the enemy each to truly defeat them. And with the level of experience we have, it looks pretty doubtful."

"Then it is as I feared." She almost whispered, her gaze thrown to the ground.

"All may not be lost. A small miracle has already presented itself." She looked up, her eyes beckoning.

"How so?"

"The Lord of Rivendell, Elrond Halfelven, he has the gift of foresight." She was wide-eyed with anticipation. "Earlier, a troop of archers arrived, their leader Captain of the Guard at the Elven City of Lothlorien. They no doubt came at his bidding. He has no desire to see the world of men torn apart. Neither do I. He is part of the reason, almost the entire reason, why I am here in the first place." She nodded, then something new presented itself.

"Wait! Why are you here?" '_What?_ Ungrateful little bit—' "Why aren't you up there, with the others?" Her expression grew angry. "Did they tell you not to fight? Ooh! I can't believe they would do something like that! I just—"

"Calm down, they didn't tell me not to fight, in fact, Aragorn convinced them to let me take part, but," I continued, not giving her a chance to voice the question her lips had already formed. "I'm not about to explain to anyone for the third time today my reasons for being here. Just do me a favour and accept it, okay?" She had just nodded her consent when the ground above us ceased to shake. The eerie nothingness that followed was almost too much to bear.

"What's happening?" Someone whispered fearfully in the almost darkness.

I took a deep breath and said quietly as I exhaled, "It has begun…"

There was a brief pause, where the silence hung, heavy and thick with uncertainty. Then a series of screams, roars and growls, coupled with the thousands of heavy footfalls of the monsters trembled the ceiling. A general muttering and quickened rates of breathing followed. The people were starting to panic a little. They were frightened half to death not knowing what was going on.

"Don't worry." I heard myself saying. "That's nothing, really. They…they are just charging to the walls. There is no way they'll be able to break through the walls, so they'll be forced to go in through the gate, and that alone will mean they loose a lot more troops." I looked up to find myself the centre of attention. "There isn't much cause for concern at the moment, we have amongst the most skilled Elven archers alive on the walls. They arrived earlier tonight. With luck we should be able to take down a few thousand before they breach the gate."

"What's really happening?" Eowyn asked quietly once I'd sat down on a convenient boulder.

"Exactly what I said – though you might want to change it to a lot of luck. I'm not about to lie to these people. They deserve to know what's going on. If I tell them we're winning easily when in fact all is lost, how would they feel?" A hint of a smile crossed her lips.

"You truly are unique. Most people would just patronise them."

"Yes, well, I'm not exactly what you'd call…conventional." A few of the louder bellows from above brought a new wave of murmurs. "That's just the Elves and soldiers doing what they're here for." I said to the cave in general. Another wave of more satisfied murmurs passed through. A look of fear crossed Eowyn's already pale face.

"What if they have ladders? Won't the fighters be forced into hand-to-hand combat beforehand?"

"Yes…" I mused for a moment or two. "But ladders are never really effective. Post one or two archers or swordsmen on each and have them hack down the Uruk-Hai as they come. That's the best strategy with trained fighters, but I am unsure as to the current course of action if they do indeed have ladders…But have faith in your uncle, and Aragorn too. I'm sure they have some idea of what they are doing. If not, I'm sure Haldir does."

"Haldir…?"

"Oh, the Captain of the Lorien Guard."

"He is a friend of yours?"

"Well…more of an acquaintance. We have a rather love-hate relationship. But I like him, I suppose. He understands me."

We talked for a few moments more about nothing in particular. However long these moments were remained a mystery to me. It was obvious that both of us were simply trying to ignore the battle raging overhead, but this fact went unspoken. As we talked, I was flooded with the same feeling I seemed to get whenever she was around. She was so similar to an old, forgotten me that it was almost frightening. Her mannerisms, her words, her values. They were all so strangely familiar. Another thing that amused me to no end was the fact that she seemed to be intrigued with my heritage. Also, that I was accepted as a warrior.

"…I mean, you're a woman, and to tell the truth you just don't see that many female fighters who are widely accepted. Especially none as…unique, and as young as you."

"What? What do you mean young? I'll have you know I'm at least a hundred times your age."

"Wait, you can't be…" She looked rather confused. "…that would make you…just how old are you."

"_About_ three thousand and…eighty four." Her mouth opened slightly, then closed quickly as if she'd realised her own mistake.

"Of course, you're an elf, I'd forgotten. I…haven't met many, but I think I can safely say that you aren't like any I've seen. Especially that one that arrived with you. Legolas, was it?"

"Ah yes, him, well my dear, that sort of attitude generally comes with being the eldest Prince of Mirkwood."

"He's a Prince? What in Arda is he doing here, then?"

"You know, I have no idea. But I—"…was cut off before I could finish by the loud boom overhead. It quaked the rocky wall above us and a few smaller stones fell out of place. My breath caught in my throat. I closed my eyes and blocked out my other senses, focussing solely on hearing the sounds above the ground. Heavy chunks of rock were ramming into the ground. Cries of disbelief, human and elf alike. Shouts of triumph from the Uruk-Hai. A thought hit me. "They've breached the walls…" I whispered, not even realising I'd said it out loud until Eowyn asked me what I'd just said. I repeated it slowly.

"What! But…how? You said—"

"I don't know, I'm not even sure I want to know." Aragorn's words echoed in my mind. '…One less of these not-quite-soldiers wouldn't affect the outcome, you're right, but you are worth twenty or thirty of them at least…'

"You should go." Eowyn said at last. "I can tell not being able to fight is getting to you. You should go up, see if they need any help.

"You…you are right." I unconsciously checked Luccrecía was in her place before rising from my spot. I took a few steps before I turned round. "Oh, and just in case," I made to unsheathe a short sword on my back, but instead kept it on as Eowyn nodded towards her own blade sitting a small distance away.

"Good luck." She said as a farewell as I hurried out the entrance, unclasping my cloak and less useful weapons in the process. I flung them on a nearby table in the armoury as I raced through. On me, I only kept two daggers strapped to my thighs, Luccrecía safely in her sheathe, and one other sword that I carried in my hands. It was a two-hander that I was well acquainted with. It relied on brute force mingled with the skill and strength needed to wield such a blade. It was best for battles where I was severely outnumbered, and this was definitely to be the case.

I braced myself for the sight to greet me as I sprinted up the stairs, but nothing could have prepared me for the pure carnage I had hoped never to see again. The Uruk-Hai were flooding in through the colossal breach in the wall despite the efforts of the opposing army. Gripping my sword angrily, I ran out to take a place on the lower wall. I could faintly hear Aragorn shouting orders to pull back, and the general noise of Gimli objecting. But where was Legolas? And where was Haldir? I caught sight of the first Elf making his way back to the keep, a flash of gold amongst the Rohan army.

And then, I saw Haldir…

I made a small, strangled sound that I was glad was drowned out by the din around me as he took the first hit.

Then the second.

I was on the stairs by then, furiously charging at where his body now lay.

It wasn't happening, I convinced myself.

We weren't the best of friends, but someone like him didn't deserve to die. Not like this, anyway. A vicious back-stab by some random denizen of Isengard. It brightened me somewhat to see to the offender's bloody death, but then I glanced down to Haldir.

His eyes were glazed over, his mouth open slightly in shock. Around him I could see a multitude of dead Elves. It was a sickening sight. They looked unnatural, frightening in death. It wasn't meant for them. Death was the sort of unlucky thing that was reserved for lesser beings.

It chilled me to the bone, but my resolve kicked in, telling me it was not the first time I had seen this many dead, and there was nothing I could do. Quickly but reluctantly I rose, making for the keep like the others.

At least, until I caught sight of Aragorn. I had seen him with Haldir a moment before I got there, but didn't think of calling to him. In a spur of the moment he had leapt from the wall onto the muddy ground below, and he was fighting for all he was worth. That wouldn't save him however. He would be killed, slaughtered unless something…or someone, I thought, as I spied Gimli hacking his way through the throng of enemy like a Dwarf possessed.

Leaving me out on the action?

How thoughtless. Bah. Men.

I immediately followed suite. Skidding down the half-destroyed stairs in my attempt to get level with them. Within moments I was there. My sword brandished and swinging about in a strangely controlled fashion.

"Ha ha! Look who's joined the fun!" Bellowed Gimli, Aragorn casting a look in my direction and allowing the shadow of a grin to cross his face. I elbowed a creature in the solar plexus with the hilt of my sword before bringing it round to dispose of two more. It certainly was a very powerful weapon, no arguments there, but it was rather heavy, within a few more swings I could already feel the familiar stretch on my arms. This sword and others like it had given me the undefined muscles on my arms. As much as I didn't care much about my attractiveness in other accounts, I considered it just plain…wrong for a woman to have strongly defined muscles anywhere. It just…didn't look right, so mine remained slightly toned by battle, yet not overly so.

"Come!" Aragorn shouted at Gimli and myself. "To the gates!" I followed him, my blade resting comfortably on my shoulder as I ran. Soon enough, I could see what the problem was. They were almost through the gates. The wood strained under the efforts, even with a good twenty men holding it firmly shut. It would not hold for long. "How long do you need?" I caught the rushed conversation as I arrived.

"As long as you can give me!" Came Theoden's reply. Good, he was alive. That was another thing I had been wondering. Aragorn beckoned to me with a wave, Gimli trotted behind. Now I understood. I hadn't noticed the side door beforehand, and I grinned, guessing the plan of action.

I followed Gimli out, my footsteps silent and I edged along the rocks. Aragorn leaned forward slowly, surveying the situation. The Dwarf followed suit.

"Come on, we can take 'em!" He said, jumping from foot to foot, trying to control the adrenaline rush of battle. Aragorn looked at him, disbelieving.

"It's a long way." Gimli took another look at the sizeable distance, looked up to Aragorn, then quieted his inner demons, and spoke.

"Toss me." 'What?'

"What?"

"I cannot jump the distance, you'll have to toss me!" Aragorn nodded, slowly. The sort of look you give to an elderly man who starts talking to you for no reason on God's green Earth on the bus. He made to pick him up. Gimli started suddenly. "Oh, don't tell the elf." There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading.

"Not a word." I didn't promise anything, I would tell the elf whatever I pleased. In fact, they seem to have forgotten I was there in the first place. Without giving Gimli a chance to respond, the Dwarf was lifted off his feet and hurled to the other side. Aragorn and I following close behind.

I leapt into action immediately, swinging my sword with every ounce of strength I still possessed. There were hundreds of them marching, unfalteringly up the narrow path to the gates. At least this way they could only attack a few at a time. That put us at the definite advantage. They were crashing on our blades like water on rock, the words of King Theoden starting to make sense. It was going a lot better than I had thought when I stepped outside. If we could hold off the battering rams for long enough for the barricades to be put in place, we might stand a chance of regrouping in time to form a new strategy. It was our only hope.

From the corner of my eye I could see Legolas relentlessly firing arrow after arrow. Each one finding their mark. His golden head was hard to miss amongst the endless rivers of mousy brown locks and dull helmets. One well-aimed arrow had just found a thick rope holding up one of the new ladders they had erected. It snapped without hesitation and send thirty or so Uruk-Hai plummeting to their deaths. I was vaguely aware of Theoden shouting some kind of order, but I was slightly preoccupied. The battle raged all around me. All I was aware of was the rushing of my own blood. And then…

I was caught off guard. My head turned to the sound of Aragorn's voice telling me to pull back. A scimitar came round and grazed my left hand, I yanked it back just in time to save my hand, but to loose a sword. It plummeted to the ground beneath the bridge structure and was lost, probably forever. I dodged another blow as I calculated my situation. I was now unarmed. I had the daggers, but they would only be useful against Uruk-Hai with someone like Legolas wielding them. I wasn't skilled enough in that department. That left…

Luccrecía seemed to sing to me as I grabbed the sheathe, delighting at the sound made as I drew her, swinging her round in the process and catching an exposed area of flesh below the neck.

"You three! Get out of there!" Theoden's voice came through the small hole in the gate. 'how, exactly?'

I realised, not without some surprise, that I was almost half way down the bridge, and was surrounded on all sides. There was almost no hope of getting out. The odds were, once again impossible. I was reminded of Moria. 'Just the way I like them' With a swipe coupled with a roundhouse kick, I cleared my immediate perimeter as the Uruk-Hai plunged to the battlefield below. That gave me just enough time to do something I hadn't been forced to do in well over a century.

Bidden only by my will, the reason to this I knew not, the chevrons along the blade started to glow the same faint white-blue colour as I lifted it over my head.

"Fainsen!" I whispered sharply, hurling the sword down and forward as the command left my lips. As dictated, the chevrons seemed to break apart. Each division widening, each section phasing away from those adjacent. It was almost like a whip once the transformation had taken place. The areas of the blade were slim and deadly sharp, scattered along the length of a strange sort of…I didn't want to call it string, because that would never do the material justice. It shone the same colour as everything else seemed to, long, slim, and in my experience, unbreakable. Also, the fact that it, too, was razor-edged was a considerable plus.

At it collided with the ground, a shock wave was sent out around it, knocking back any that were too close. I whipped it round behind my back and brought it up, above my head in a slash. Three behind me, one on my left flank, and another in front, were immediately either knocked backwards, or sent to the ground with a mortal wound across their necks. It felt good to be wielding her once again. The power of the weapon coursed through my arm as I swiped, the trail of the blade thrashing round to follow. I twirled the hilt round my head twice, the whip curling round in its wake, a light flourish as I sped up. They were getting closer now, there were far more of them. I would be overrun unless I did something quick. One behind me. I ducked the blackened sword and took out his ankles with a quick swipe, I carried on in that direction for the time being. I had to get of the bridge somehow.

Where were Gimli and Aragorn? My pulse quickened as a thought sprung to mind. They must have fallen off. After all this.

"Yuna!" It was Aragorn. I unconsciously swung the blade behind me, delighting in the sound of air being cut in two as I dispatched two more of the enemy. He had just grabbed Gimli and held out his hand to me, his other firmly on a rope. I looked up to see Legolas preparing to pull them up. That was as good as I would get. I sprinted to where he was, bawling all my weight against an Uruk-Hai blocking my way. Almost there, just a few more metres to go.

A creature attacked them, forcing Aragorn to jump out onto the wall, where he stayed, preparing to absail to the top. I would have to jump. Preparing myself, I ran the last few feet, and left the ground…

…Only to have my arm and right ankle roughly grabbed by an enemy soldier. He hauled me back and threw me like a rag doll onto the stone of the bridge. My back screamed in protest as I collided, but I ignored the pain and concentrated on getting myself up. My only means of escape foiled, I would simply have to do the next best, and, incidentally, the most insane option available. Carry on fighting.

One rushed at me, a kangaroo kick to his heavily armoured torso backed him off a little, giving me enough time to get myself off my backside and take care of the surrounding enemy. In any other case, I would have seriously considered jumping of the bridge as a less painful option, but if I carried on at this rate, I might actually be able to survive. They were coming fast, but they could only do so three or four at a time. I was practically backed up against the gate, and at least I had some kind of advantage.

I found it incredibly strange that they went down so easily. But then I took in the factors. One was underestimation. There was only one of me, and an army of them, how hard could I be to take down. The second and most prominent, was Luccrecía. She was without a doubt the only reason I hadn't been brutally slaughtered already. There was little or no chance of anything, even Uruk-Hai, surviving, or being suitably mobile, after a direct swipe to the neck or underarms. What might have only been a graze with other weapons cut through armour like a cowcatcher through a crowd, inflicting a deep wound that, if it didn't kill, at least caused some measure of unbearable pain. Also, I was already battle-hardened enough. I had seen enough blood and death to desensitise me to pretty much…everything.

Another ten gone.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

The minutes I as up there turned to hours, it got to the point where I had stopped counting the numbers a long time ago.

"What are you doing out there? Get out!" Theoden yelled, looking frantically at the approaching battering ram.

"I'd—" slash, "Just," swipe, "Love to!" I swiped the blade down and, ripping it up off the ground, took care of three more.

"Yuna!" This time it was Legolas, I never thought I'd be so happy to hear his voice. I briefly glanced upwards. He had a rope in one hand, the same one he used to haul up Gimli and Aragorn. He threw one end to me quickly, and I wrapped it round my arm as the onslaught continued. I hurried to the edge of the bridge, shouting a command as I ran.

"Alye!" The sword in my hand immediately linked together once more, the chevrons flashing one last time before settling into place. One hand securely around the rope, I jumped…

…Only to have my ankle grabbed yet again by a soldier. Not wishing for a repeat of previous times, I gritted my teeth and thrust the blade downwards. It was too short to do anything but graze his hands, but without warning, bidden only by my wishes, the front section of Luccrecía shot down, embedding herself in his mouth, open and screaming in rage. It assembled again. My foot had been released all too quickly, and with Legolas holding the rope and pulling at the same time, an elf or two behind him, I walked, almost ran, up the side of the wall.

His hand met my wrist as I grasped his, hauling myself up the last few feet, and onto the wall. I stumbled into safety, catching my breath in the process. I hadn't realised just tired I was, fatigue was eating away at me as well. My arms felt like dropping off, and at the time I would happily oblige, my legs didn't feel like working at all, my lungs seemed smaller somehow and it hurt to breathe in too much. My back was seriously protesting against any more movements, and I didn't even want to try and list the umber of wounds I'd received. Legolas looked at me questioningly once I was on my feet.

"Why are you here? Aragorn said you were going to stay in the caves."

"Yes, well, I couldn't exactly let you beat me now, could I?" I remembered the bet established early on. There was no way he'd killed more than me…

He smirked, but to me it was obvious he was simply trying to put up a front to avoid dealing with the carnage around us. I followed him as the soldiers dashed as one into the keep, following Gamling's yelled orders. His voice was hoarse from shouting too much, it cracked slightly as he gave the command.

I reached the inside, noting Aragorn's frustrated face, his teeth gritted before he turned to the door and saw me. Legolas ran towards the back, helping to barricade the entrance. The ranger nodded at me once. This was becoming a habit. I supposed that I wasn't worth wasting breath on. Never mind, no great loss.

Suddenly, my ears picked up a noise. I didn't know what it was at first, but it was eerily familiar. I strained to hear it, shutting off all other senses for the second time that night.

I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. After all this time…now?

"It's happening…" I said, unaware I was even speaking.

"What?" Gamling asked, a little louder than he'd intended.

"The Ents…they're…they're going to war at last…with Saruman's army here, Isengard will fall." I found myself strangely relieved at the prospect of the closest thing I had to a family going to war.

"The fortress is taken. It is over." Theoden hadn't heard me, and was now musing over our own defeat.

_"_You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. They still defend it. They have died defending it!" Aragorn moved away from the barricade and strode purposely towards Theoden. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Theoden was silent. "Is there no other way?"

"There…is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-Hai are too many." Gamling stated, his voice shaking slightly.

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!" Gamling made for the entrance to the caves, but I stopped him.

"I will go. I will try to hold them off as long as I can, to give them a good chance of getting further away." I paused, meeting Aragorn's stare. "Let me do this."

"Very well…Yuna, I…" He faltered, searching for words to punctuate what was more than likely our final meeting.

"Me too." I finished for him, knowing full well that he understood.

"Thank you." He said, turning back to the King. I headed for the cave entrance without another thought, hoping my appearance was not as frightening as I thought it was.

I heard the crying, the wailing, the knowledge of their imminent death, before I'd even got down. Eowyn was cradling a child's head as she too wept for the people of Rohan. I clenched my jaw and entered.

Sword drawn, hair dishevelled, wounds bleeding in places, clothes soaked with rain mingled with my own, and other's blood. I was a sight that was probably not very welcome at the time.

"Yuna! What happened? What's happening now?" The blonde vision asked fearfully, her bright blue eyes glinting with tears.

"There's no time for that now! You must…" I doubled over and coughed. To my horror, but not surprise, there was blood on my hand as I removed it from my mouth. "…You must lead the people back. Further into the mountain." She hesitated. "Quickly! Before they break through, you must…" _cough,_ "…hurry! There is no time! Go!"

"What about you?"

"I will stay here and try to hold them off as long as I can. It's up to you to get the women and children to safety." She nodded – '_I'll have to start a tally…'_ – and disappeared into the crowds, calling out instructions. I turned around again, glaring at the door. Gamling and the others were barricading the entrance at the top. It was up to me to stop the others. My ears were ringing. My lip was bleeding in two places. I had a cut streaking around the left side of my face. I had at least one broken rib, and my left wrist was probably fractured. I had terrible cramps in both my quadriceps as well as my left bicep. All in all, things weren't looking their best.

If I survived the battle, at least I'd have a few scars to prove it, although I'd my fair share of those already. Part of me was longing for Legolas or Gimli or _someone_ to run down and tell me all was won, we were victorious. But I knew that would never happen. I looked around the place that was to serve as my grave and felt a sort of grim satisfaction. I would die just like I'd always thought I would. Fighting to my death. I'd never imagined that it would be for such a noble cause, but then again, I wasn't a very noble person when it came down to it.

Then the Uruk-Hai came…

There were only four, maybe five that came screaming down the stairway and face-first into Luccrecía. I had killed enough of them tonight to write a book on their week spots. It took me under two minutes to dispatch them all. Then there was the odd one or two for the next half-hour.

By now I was getting seriously worried. Where were they all? By all rights I should be dead right now. Unless…what if they knew of another way to the backs of the caves? They knew about the wall's one weak spot, so why not this? Cold fear gripped my heart. I turned to look at the uninviting black of the deeps. What if…? A twisted arrow flew past my head, barely grazing my braids as I swerved, turning round and throwing one of my daggers to embed itself in the Uruk-Hai's head.

My head screamed at me for the sudden movement. Flashes of colour swam before my eyes. I saw the creature go down, but soon lost my footing myself. My body folded up beneath me, my eyes rolled back in my head. My rib throbbed as I collided with the ground. And then, there was black…

A.N. I haven't replied to reviews for a while, so….

Jen: I knew it! We couldn't be that unpopular. Someone likes us! Thanks a bunch for your review, it made me blush…Well, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it .

Name: Love me, then. It's soon for us…

Lilly: Thanks, hon. we will.

Lilena: Damn straight! (And thanks for the other reviews and the favourites thing. Can I just say I love you)

Diana Troy's love child: Love the name . And thanks, I based her on a real life sickeningly cute child I have the _pleasure_ of knowing.

Yurico4Logan: Read on, sweetie.

Serendipty: Soon, dearie, soon. Next chapter is the end of LOTR, and the beginning of our original story line. I.e. romance.

Einon: Read the rest! Please! And review! I love you!

Chris: Yes, yes you do.

pUnK rOcK pRiNcEsS: Ah yes, the neon beacon flashing legomance, legomance! makes itself known once again.

Rionadestiny: Bah! More of you lurkers! I love you really…but review! Please! I need input!

Phoebemoon: Two words: Neon Beacon.


	19. Simplicity

"…I still remember the world  
From the eyes of a child,  
Slowly those feelings  
Were clouded by what I know now.

Where has my heart gone?  
An uneven trade for the real world,  
I want to go back to  
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all.

I still remember the sun  
Always warm on my back,  
Somehow it seems colder now.

Where has my heart gone?  
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger,  
I want to go back to  
Believing in everything…"

Evanescence Fields of Innocence

Chapter 17: Simplicity

I inhaled sharply, wincing as the hot wave of pain cascaded through my torso. After some amount of consciousness was gained, I surveyed my current situation. I was lying down, not on the hard rocky surface of the cave I had been expecting, but instead on a slightly softer material that might have passed for a mattress. My rib throbbed with pain, but not as much, I felt a slight pressure around my skin, but was unable to discern the cause for the time being. My left wrist was set straight with a splint, and wrapped up tightly. I must have broken it after all. But…why was I here? Why wasn't I happily floating along in the halls of Mandos at this moment in time? Did we…did we win? But how did we survive, did help come? Why would anyone answer such a call for help? Why would the Uruk-Hai be defeated so easily?…And why the hell was I topless?

I opened my eyes, shutting them again and squinting as the morning light hit me. I was in a room, it was fairly small, and I was alone except for the blonde figure that sat at the side of the mat, a roll of bandage in one hand, the end of which was wrapped about my upper torso. I looked at her questioningly, not even trying to speak.

"Yunalesca. I'm glad you have awoken at last." She said simply, her eyes shining.

"How…" I cleared my throat, my voice raspy and hoarse from the night's activities. "How long was I out?"

"Long enough for me to get you nicely stitched up. Quite a fight you put up last night I hear." She punctuated 'stitched' with a nod to my right thigh. I suppose that wasn't really a cramp after all. I tried to sit up to better assess my state, but the pain in my ribs pushed me back down. "Wait, you shouldn't even be trying to get up now, you've broken two of your ribs."

"That's never stopped me before." I eased myself into a sitting position and breathed out slowly, experimenting. I saw a long gash, stitched expertly near my hip, where a long tear in my leggings exposed a little more oddly tanned flesh than I was happy with. I examined the splint on my wrist, my fingers could move all right, though not without some measure of pain. I glanced at the bandage that was being tied off around my ribs.

"I'm sorry for…you know, but I didn't think you'd mind that much, after all, you could have been dying so I doubt you'd have minded me removing your top."

"Oh, that. Well, I'm just glad it was you and not some old mercenary medic…if you don't mind me asking, where are the other injured? I know for a fact that there were many more."

"Oh, they're in a sort of makeshift infirmary. This is just a side room. I wasn't about to strip you in front of the rest of the soldiers." I smiled.

"Thank you. Where…where are the others?"

"The others? Your companions? Oh, well, they're…" I half expected her to say something like 'lying at the bottom of a bloody battlefield outside.' Or simply: 'all dead.' But instead… "…Not here now, they left earlier today, heading towards Isengard, I was told."

"Isengard…" I rolled this around for a while, finally coming to a conclusion. "How long ago did they leave?"

"Earlier this morning, I'd say four or five hours."

"I can catch them up." I planted my good hand firmly on the mattress and brought my legs round, trying to effectively stand without breaking anything else.

"What? You cannot be serious. You are in no condition to even be standing, let alone riding!"

"That's never stopped me before." I repeated, easing myself up, cursing lightly as the now familiar pain shot through my ribs. I reached for my top, turning round upon feeling the urgent hand on my arm.

"Please don't. You were almost killed last night, what was the point in surviving if you're just going to die as soon as you get the next opportunity." She sounded oddly sincere.

"No offence, and I know this is going to sound incredibly heartless and ungrateful of me, but…why do you care? You've only known who I am for under a day."

"I talked to you enough to know that you are a good person."

"_Haldir _was a good person…" I whispered, more to myself then to her.

"Haldir? The elf? Did he…oh…" Her eyes dropped to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I was just…thinking. I'm used to death, but this was different somehow. Most of the people I've seen die were either being _killed_ by me, or just random, plebeian soldiers who were going to die anyway. Haldir was just…one of those people you don't _like_, but can't imagine them not being there. Am I making any sense?"

"No, I understand that. I lost a few people I might have called 'friends' in the battle."

"It's strange." I continued, not really hearing her. "Elves rarely die, except obviously in large-scale battles such as those fought many thousands of years ago. When they _do_ die, it just seems so unnatural. I'm rarely shocked by anything, but the sight of so many dead, their faces frozen in a picture of utter shock, and yet peace at the same time…it almost frightened me."

I shocked myself at this sudden display of emotion. Emotion, I had learnt a long, long time ago, through pain and heartache, was not my friend. If I cried, I'd be hailed as nothing more than a weak woman, not fit to fight. If I showed fear, I'd suffer the same fate. If I tried to care for someone, they'd be taken away. If I dared to love…I didn't even want to think about that. I wondered absently why I'd told Eowyn that. It wasn't as if we were close, hardly even acquaintances. And yet…

The way she looked at me, trusting, friendly, enthralled by everything I was. She was so quick to trust. Something, I was sure, she would learn never to do. I could see myself as I was so many years ago. Young, naïve, credulous, even ignorant. I never really understood the mechanics of the world, of the human and Elven mind, the things that made people hate, persecute, kill. I learnt of all this through many long and painful experiences. Too many to even think of.

The only family I ever knew…they were gone now, one half left the other abandoned, the other half unwilling to survive. I could remember quick snaps of their faces in my memory, choosing instead to remember the things that defined them. Their courage, perseverance, love, defeats, cowardice…

The only friends I ever had…killed, stolen, left. It didn't matter who they were, where they'd come from, they were never there for long. Maybe they were ripped to shreds in the thick of combat. That was the most common cause. Either that or the mortal life that '_plagued' _humans struck. Sometimes, they just left. They just packed up their life and moved perhaps to Gondor, or another village where the life was better.

Sometimes, I just wished that I could go back to times long ago. Times of innocence, when the world didn't seem like such an immoral and bloody place to live. I longed, at times, for my rose-coloured glasses. Nothing could touch me when I was a child. Everyone I met was a nice, respectable person. Wars were a far-off and detached subject. I longed for my fantasies, stories, fairytales. Where the happy ending always came, no matter what happened before. Death didn't exist, no one ever left me, and everything had a happy ending…

But I learnt all too quickly that such things were indeed childish. There was no such thing as a happy ending. People died, cities burnt, and Good rarely triumphed over Evil. Life wasn't fair, it never was. I had killed far too many times to think of myself as innocent. And the darker portions of my soul slowly made themselves known, whether I liked it or not.

I could never go back to a time like that. When I was a child, wide-eyed and unaware, I was also ignorant of everything. I couldn't stand that ignorance once more. It would be like willingly forsaking everything good that came from the lessons I'd learnt. Well, if it could be called good. I knew far too many ways to kill something, human or otherwise, than could be considered 'normal' for someone like me. But then again, nothing about me was ever considered 'normal.' I was an outcast, always had been, always would be.

I suppose it was good that I liked my privacy, in that case. That was how it always was. No one got close, no one got hurt, and I didn't get hurt…

But then, Eowyn came along, being disturbingly friendly and unprejudiced to everything I was. She reminded me more of the Evenstar then of myself in that respect. Both shared the unmistakable beauty, grace and aura of kindness that made me fade into the background next to their flawless ivory skin, perfectly groomed locks of shimmering colour and their charitable and selfless acts. I was startled by the simple fact that Eowyn even _tried_ to be friendly. That never even happened with Arwen. She just feigned indifference to my existence, all the while wishing I would just…go. That was a nice way of putting it, too many people just wished I'd crawl back into the hole I'd emerged from. I was the most unorthodox and peculiar person I knew. Perhaps that was why she was so fascinated with me…

"Please, please don't go after them. At least, not yet. Give your ribs a chance to at least begin to heal, and let your wrist be set properly." Her tone was almost pleading.

"Fine." I caved in, I knew just how unpleasant riding with a broken rib or three was. "I shall wait for a while before I travel to Isengard."

"Just out of interest, why do you want to go with them?"

"Isengard is just on the border of Fangorn Forest."

"And why would you want to go _there_ of all places?" I sighed.

"Why must _everyone_ refer to my home as some dank pit of despair?" I asked rhetorically.

"Wait, you…you _live_ there?"

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just that…people—"

"…Know nothing. It's a lovely place, really, and the inhabitants are even nicer."

"The…inhabitants?"

"The Ents."

"They are _real_?"

"Yes."

"…Oh." The conversation ground to a halt for a moment or two. She was asking startled questions, expecting a reply like 'of course not' when instead she simply got a 'yes' as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was true, though. A good number of people near the forest were intellectually outclassed by dead sheep, It wasn't hard for them to continue their clueless existence without even bothering to think of the big, wide world around them. Besides the _haunted_ forest was no place for any of them to even attempt entering.

"Don't worry about it, not many people know about them. It didn't used to be like that, but things have changed a lot." She nodded, the knowledge filing neatly into her mind.

"It's just…so strange. _Why_ do you live there? Are there other elves?"

"No, just me, and I didn't _want_ to live there at first, but after a while I actually liked it, so I stayed. Don't ask why I went there in the first place because…to tell the truth I don't really remember that much of my life before I was forty or fifty."

"I…I still can't get over how _old_ you are. From the way you act, I didn't think you much older than me. Although it's obvious from how you fight that you're not."

"Are you saying I'm immature?" I laughed. It was a strange feeling. I didn't really have anything to worry about, for a while at least, and right now there was nothing I could do about it. I was such a release to laugh out loud, sincerely and happily for one of the first times in years.

"You know more about your kind then I do, I'm sure, but you know what most elves are like.

"No, I know what you mean. Some of them are a little _too_ stuck up for their own good. The only thing good about egoists is that they don't talk about other people."

"And yet you still manage to be fairly humble."

"I agree, it's hard to be humble when you're as great as I, but somehow I manage."

I didn't know how I'd got here but sometime after sunset I found myself standing outside the makeshift morgue where most of the elves had, for a time, been laid to rest. The King must have overlooked telling the people left exactly what to do with these perfect creatures. I wasn't surprised to find out they were wary, even scared of coming in to contact with the bodies. To these people they were an alien race. The inhabitants had no idea what to do with them, how to pay proper respect of the people that had died valiantly in their defence. It was almost comical that even though most of them had died in such brutal ways, they still retained that elegance that graced them whilst living.

With a heavy heart, I slowly pushed open the heavy oak doors and stepped into the small stone room. Unfortunately the elves where not impervious to decomposition as well. The stuffy air reeked of death. Laid out neatly on tables or on the floor were between twenty to thirty corpses. It was really only a handful of those that had entered into the gates of Helm's Deep, but I assumed there wasn't enough of the others to bring them here. Their deaths had not been pleasant, that was for sure. One missing a leg there, another an arm or in the worse case hacked in two. Others only had half a face; the other side either left out on the battlefield or reduced to shreds of flesh bone. It was brutal carnage, typical of bloodthirsty Orcs. But this was war, we no better.

I walked between the tables, the foul stench filling my lungs. What light there was came from several torches along the cold grey walls. There he was. Down to the back on a separate table lay Haldir. They knew he was the most senior of the Elven guard or at least the one in charge and so had made an effort to give him a little more room than the rest.

I could see that if the stab to the abdomen hadn't killed him then the blunt force trauma to the back of the head certainly would have. His glazed eyes gazed lifeless into the air, his hair tangled with rainwater and dirt. His lips were slightly parted, his last breath escaping them long ago. I stood beside him for a couple of minutes. We'd never been close. We'd hated each other…right? Then why did I feel such a huge lump rising in my throat? And why where lights getting so dim. It was only than I noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks and burning my eyes.

I took his hand into my own two, noticing how much bigger it seemed.

"You weren't supposed to go…like this." I said, my voice broken and raspy. "You were one of the good ones. You where meant for the Undying lands. Not to have a useless death here in this desolate place."

But the words meant nothing to anyone but myself. He was dead; nothing would bring him back.

"Namaarië, mellon en'haba. Aa'Arvandor creos'lle." Farewell, my friend. May the Halls of Mandos welcome you.

The following day, Eowyn declared me unable to ride, but I declared myself fully able. Saying my goodbyes, I made sure the bandage about my chest was tight enough for riding, and headed for the stables.

Instead of the usual pushover stable hand, there was a younger, slightly more intelligent-looking model who was brushing down what was left of the horse. Namely, Túlka, and five others. Túlka whinnied happily as I approached, probably glad that, unlike the others, she had not lost her rider. I glared at the bridle that confined her head, wondering where it had come from.

I reached her stall, and, conscious of the stable hand watching my every move, opened the door without a word and examined the bridle. One end of the reigns was tied to a nearby post. Now I was even more troubled. I untied her quickly and reached up to unbuckle the throat-lash.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Said a voice behind me. I turned around, a Look™ prepared on my face. There stood the stable hand, a typically '_sigh_, _women_' look painted on his rather sharp features. He was one of those unfortunate people who smiled like a particularly evil bastard after just evicting a widow. His whole stance emanated raw pride. He was like a peacock in everything but beauty.

"Excuse _me?_" I asked, my tone as sweet as cyanide.

"That beast is a monster. No discipline whatsoever. I'm surprised she hasn't bitten your hand off yet." What a complete and utter—

"_Really?_ The horse's owner should be informed of her _terrible_ behaviour. Is that why she's tied up?"

"Yes it is, she wouldn't follow any commands, and was getting rather violent. And the owner? I'm guessing he's probably dead from the battle, like over half the soldiers."

"Interesting. What didn't she do?"

"That's none of your concern, woman, did you come to get some supplies for the healers? The supply room's down the hall."

"How thoughtful of you."

"If that's all, why don't you leave the horses to me. I'd hate to see you get hurt because of some disobedient mare." I finally snapped, I could hold it in no longer.

"No, actually, I was just coming in to collect _my_ mare and leave for Isengard. Imagine my surprise when I found that not only has she been harassing ignorant stable _boys_, but she's also been tied up in one of these stupid bridles." I made my point by cradling her head as I removed the bridle, draping it over the side of the stall. I reached for a brush to clean away the dirt and sweat behind her ears, when he spoke again.

"Is that so? I'm afraid you can't take her or any other horse out until the King gets back. I've instructions to keep these here. And even if you could, you're a little late, they left yesterday. And don't you think you're a little young to be riding all the way to Isengard?" His tone was laced with open mockery.

"As a matter of fact, I'm over three thousand years old. If you have any problem with me taking _my_ horse and going to Isengard _right_ now, why don't you go talk to Eowyn? Or better yet, the king himself." Success. His eyes widened slightly, but I could tell he wasn't going to let go so easily.

"I still can't let you take this horse while she's under my supervision." I resisted drawing my sword, and instead opted for a verbal assault. I turned, slowly. A pitying look was etched on my face, the kind one gives to 'special' two-year olds.

"You know? I would like to take you seriously, but to do so would be an affront to your intelligence." I was slipping easily into high-register vocabulary I had picked up. It never failed to make the other feel incompetent. "If I want the advice of a retard, I'll slap you on the back of the head and wake up that little peg legged hamster that operates the drool-powered waterwheel of thought in there. Until then, sit in the corner and wait until I either speak to you or spit at you." With that, I turned and mounted my horse easily, smiling as she snorted in his face on her way out.

My backside hurt. It hurt a lot. I had forgotten just how painful riding without much purpose or hurry for a day or so was. Especially when there was no one to speak to. Or in this case, bitch to. I was use to riding for long distances on my own, but over the past few days, maybe even a week or so, I had grown used to people being around to talk to. Now, I looked over the plains of Rohan, completely empty, devoid of life. I didn't have to concentrate much to get to Isengard, as a troop of ten thousand Uruk-Hai weren't exactly the subtlest creatures on this Valar-forsaken continent. They had left a trail of muddy footprints from the keep and back to the tower of Orthânc. Túlka's hooves only added to the mess of battered earth they left in their wake.

So as I cantered along, cheerfully ignoring the pain in my ribs, my mind swam with a thousand thoughts. Most of them were just random things that my overworked brain popped out with at inopportune moments. Some were focused on the masses of dead left at the end of the battle. The flames barely managing to stay lit in the unforgiving rain. The stench of the dead as the doors to the makeshift mausoleum were opened. I could still remember the half surprised, half pained look on Haldir's face as he was struck down. So close. He was so close to sailing across the sea with his Lady. This was probably the last errand he had to do before he would leave. How ironic. A great warrior such as he would make it so far in his life, only to be brutally killed by some nameless Uruk-Hai. I cleared my head of the morbid thoughts and decided to focus on something brighter.

But what was there? We had won the battle, but we were almost certainly going to lose the war. There was no point in celebrating such a fleeting victory. Gondor would be crushed by Mordor, and there was hardly anything to be done. My warped mind conjured up an image of two little Hobbits laying dead in a ditch somewhere, the ring on its merry way to Sauron. I banished this immediately. There was still hope, however pathetic it seemed at the time.

I wondered what had caused the Ents to go to war. They wouldn't have done anything if not for a direct assault on them personally. But Saruman wouldn't be that stupid to risk war with the Ents while his massive army was busy elsewhere. His tiny orcish minions would be ripped to shreds if they were up against the might of the enraged Ents. I would find out soon enough in any case.

Then another thought struck me. Merry and Pippin. Those two scoundrels had surprised me to no end when they showed up. I didn't make my presence known as Treebeard carried them off. I knew he wouldn't hurt them. I wondered how anything could hurt creatures so sweet and…charming.

Secretly, I looked forward to meeting them again. They always seemed to make me smile, as well as those around them. It seemed like such a stereotypical insult to all Hobbits, but these particular ones were indeed cute. Even though they were older than half the humans around them.

I stared hard at the horizon. It was fairly clear, and if I focused hard enough, I could just about make out the tower in the distance. Hugging Túlka's neck affectionately, I urged her onwards.

I slowed to a light trot as I got closer. The sun beat down on my neck, but the breeze cooled me enough for it to be comfortable. The tower was close now, I could see it clearly, the fine details of twisted black metal and the smoking craters in the earth. I got a little closer, and I could just about make out, with little surprise, two noticeably shorter figures amongst the group. I smirked. They had probably been half the reason behind the breaching of the dam. I was easily able to make out the different figures now. Legolas – no mistaking him – Gimli, Gamling. Aragorn glanced briefly in my direction and after a short word with an unidentified soldier, they both mounted and were headed to where Túlka ambled along dreamily. I sped up slightly to a fuller trot, and gave the most sincere smile I could manage as they neared.

"Ah. You made it." Aragorn spoke as they slowed. "From what I heard, it didn't look as if you'd be riding for at least a week, but then again, you never were one to follow good advice." '_The bloody cheek!'_

"It was nothing really, just a broken rib or four." I chuckled, carefully evading the issue of my other numerous injuries. I glanced at the nameless man to his right. He had removed his helmet, revealing a round, tanned face framed by tangled, golden locks. My eyebrow shot up a fraction of a centimetre. His entire stance was proud, sure of himself, yet not in an overly arrogant way. His face and general appearance was rugged yet a little more refined than most of the scraggy soldiers. He appeared to be someone of importance.

"A friend of yours?" The voice. Deep throated, slightly husky, masculine. It was all I could do not to let my mouth hang open as the shivers ran up and down my spine. Hey, I could lust, couldn't I? It didn't mean anything after all, but this was one of the few occasions when I found myself rather liking the look of a human I happened to come across.

"Ah, forgive me. Éomer this is—"

"Yunalesca of Fangorn, it's a pleasure to meet you." I practically purred. Aragorn looked horrified. I winked at him. "And…your name is?" I sounded genuinely interested. It was strange coming out of my mouth.

"Éomer, son of Eomund, Marshal of the Riddermark." 'What a title.' Okay, normally this didn't affect me, normally. I cared nothing for titles, but in this case, it meant that he talked for just that little bit longer. He let a slight smirk work its way onto his cupid's bow lips. Aragorn looked incredibly uncomfortable, shifting in his saddle slightly. I let a sultry smile cross my face.

"The others are waiting for us." Aragorn interjected after a moment or so of eye contact.

"They?"

"We were about to meet with Treebeard. Until we spotted you."

"Oh, of course, how stupid of me, let us be on our way, then." I turned my horse with my hips, throwing a glance over my shoulder from under hooded eyes at the dirty blonde. It was a short ride, a minute or so, to the campsite.

I dismounted, stretching out my aching muscles when I was on the ground. I noticed him glance briefly in my direction. I 'absentmindedly' ran a hand through my braids, then shook my head, letting them tumble a good way down my back.

"Look, she's back!

"I told you she'd be back!"

"Let's talk to her!"

"Why don't you?"

"I said it first. Go on."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because she—"

"…Is right behind you." I interrupted their enthralling conversation. The two partners in crime turned to me slowly, their faces angelic and devoid of guilt. They were seated and immediately rose. To my surprise, they had grown at least a foot since I last saw them. Their eyes were now easily level to my…chest. Great.

"Hullo, Lady Yuna." They chorused in their sickeningly adorable accents.

"My you've grown. Treebeard didn't by chance give you anything, did he?" My voice went flat mid-sentence.

"Ooh, yes, some of that Entwash stuff, he said…" Merry drifted off hopelessly as my eyes narrowed dangerously. I opened my mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud hoom! behind me.

"Ah!" I yelped and spun round. When I was met with brown foliage as an excuse for knees, my gaze travelled upwards until I gained eye contact with the Ent.

"Bo hoom, Yunalesca—"

"Now, what have I told you about doing that to people, especially me." I started, taking a step back and planting my hands firmly on my hips. " It freaks the shit out of them." If it was possible for a walking, talking tree to have facial expressions, he looked unmistakably guilty. "And don't give me any of that about us being the younger generation and that's why you don't have to care. Because that's just downright _rude_. Do you know how many neck cramps I get because of all that looking up to you? I mean seriously. And what did you think you were doing when you let the Hobbits drink from the frickin' Entwash? Look at them! Just look at them! They're hardly Hobbits anymore, they're more like really, really short Men! They'll be lucky if they're even accepted in the Shire anymore. Did you even think about that?" He shook his giant head slowly, dislodging a few twigs and leaves. "For _shame._" I scolded, shaking my head disappointedly. "Anyway, there's some people here who apparently want to meet you and—" I turned around. Most of the camp had assembled in a semicircle exactly five metres away from where I was standing. When I turned around, they took a step back as one. "What?" I Looked™, walking off, a confused look on my face.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself sitting and talking to possibly one of the most attractive people in the campsite. Legolas was, of course, the exception, seeing as he was far prettier than me or any other in this particular area.

"So…you're Eowyn's…brother, right?"

"Aye." 'Not giving me much, here.'

"It shows. Lovely sister, by the way." He chuckled. A rich, deep sound that was possibly even better than his voice.

"I suppose so. And yourself?"

"Hmm?"

"Any siblings? Family?"

"Me? No. Nothing you could really count as family. Unless you count the Ents of course, but I'm guessing you wouldn't because that's just wrong and you know what? I'm going to stop talking now…" He laughed again. 'I'm good at this.'

"So you…live in Entwood?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. Before you go on, I got pretty much the same response from your sister. You two really are very similar. You even look the same. As for me, I'm glad I don't have any sisters. I wouldn't wish my looks on anyone else." He looked disbelieving.

"That's not true. You look very…exotic." Now that was a new one. It wasn't the kind of tone you got when you told someone they looked…nice! then cracked an uncomfortable little smile, this was far more sincere. It was as if he was actually searching through his vocabulary for a word to aptly describe my impression. It was, in a word, sweet.

"…Thanks." I started. That is, before a shadow loomed over both of us.

"Yuna, the Ents request your presence."

"Ah, Legolas. Kel'lle. Sii." Go away. Now. I said sweetly, my teeth clenching together on the last sentence. Éomer glanced up to him, then to me. He rose from the grass and offered me a hand. I took it thankfully, relishing the callused yet smooth skin of his palm.

"If you must leave, then I hope dearly that we shall meet again, my Lady." 'I'm his lady. I rule.'

"And I also." I gave a half smile before sauntering off, leaving a self-satisfied Éomer and a rather confused Legolas who followed a moment later.

"What was that about?" He asked. I gave him my most annoyed Look™ and said nothing. He took the hint and remained silent.

"So I guess this is it." I said to Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas flanking him. "I can't really say I'll miss you, but just…try not to go and get yourself killed." He smiled. I leaned to his right, eye to eye with Gimli, well…almost. "Oh, and by the way. The bet? Let's just say you lost." I turned to Legolas. "Both of you."

"Bah! Preposterous!"

"Oh? And what was your tally?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I lost count at the first hundred." 'Maybe that was exaggerating a little, but I was easily over both of their scores by at least fifty in any case.' I looked over my shoulder; the Ents were waiting for me. "In any case, I'd better be going. As much as I'd love to go to Gondor with you, my duty lies here. Agdor (-farewell-), Gimli, and Namaarie (-Oh come on…-)to you, Legolas. You still owe me your head on a platter. I suppose you could call it a fight, but we both know it won't be like that." I grinned. "And Aragorn. What is there to say? Your destiny awaits, do Mankind a favour and be there when it happens." With that I spun on my heel and jogged over to where Quickbeam stood. Halfway there, I heard a meek voice.

"Goodbye Lady Yuna." I stopped in my tracks and turned to see two grief-stricken Hobbits.

"Oh, Forgive me, I'd almost forgotten you two, no matter how tall you've become." I leant down slightly, more to achieve eye contact with Merry than anything else. He seemed to be enjoying the fact that his current line of vision gave him a lovely view of the rounding of my chest. How cute. "Don't get yourself into too much trouble, like you always seem to." I smiled. It seemed to be happening a lot these days. "I guess this is goodbye from me, then." I leant down to plant a quick kiss on each of their foreheads. Merry reddened, Pippin just grinned stupidly. With that, I closed the distance between me and Quickbeam. I'd left Túlka to make her own way to Entwood as she was more than happy to have some measure of freedom. The young Ent lowered his hand to the floor; I clambered up his arm and perched on his shoulder as he turned to head back into the forest. I waved a hand in a final sort of goodbye, and disappeared into the dense woods.

A.N. Oh god, the Éomer bug has just bit us in the ass. Dear god, have none of you seen him in Xena? Wearing nothing but a loincloth and a pair of great big…wings? And don't forget the bow, oh, did we mention he's cupid? Silly us. We now have a powerful urge to turn this to an Éomer romance, but no, we shall stay true to the Elvish wonder that is the son of Thranduil. Review. xx


	20. Change

_"…What would you do  
To get to me  
What would you say  
To have your way  
Would you give up  
Or try again  
If I hesitate  
To let you in  
Now would you be yourself  
Or play your role  
Tell all the boys  
Or keep it low  
If I say no  
Would you turn away  
Or play me off  
Or would you stay…"_

_Aaliyah__ Try Again_

Chapter Eighteen: Change

Misty morning dew hung in the damp air that smelt of sap and deeply soaked earth. The moisture clinging to leaves slowly made its way down veins and groves to dangle precariously at the jagged-edged, green-brown tips. Every so often one or two gathered enough weight to drop to its oblivion on the damp ground below. Of course in an area with thousands of trees each plastered with fresh foliage this process was happening about a million times a minute. Though on one, just one, this process different. Mingling in with the clear liquid was another, thick and dark in substance, almost greenish-black. Before the perfect pear-shaped crystal had time to fall, one pale, long finger stroked the textured surface, taking both substances with it. A thumb stroked the forefinger both liquids where situated on. The hand itself proclaimed that hard work was something virtually unknown to the person with almost flawless skin covering every inch of it. The mingled liquids were rubbed against a darkish cloak, the colour of which was hard to tell in the poor light, with disdain and hand signals were made to the group of cloaked riders a few paces back. They dismounted in almost complete unison, sending droplets flying left, right and centre.

The band were stood right outside the borders of the rather gnarled forest that only seemed to get worse as they headed further in. A single figure stood under the clustered bows, strands of blond hair spilling out from the heavily soaked hood that covered most of his head and hid the face in shadow. He gazed deep into the wood that held their quarry as a slightly taller figure came to stand beside him.

"They can't have got far." The first breathed, his voice low and quiet. "Spread out and comb the area. Nothing is to be left unchecked." The second figure nodded and headed back to the group of three behind them.

We had spotted them almost as soon as dawn had broken on the horizon. A band of Orcs, no more than six or seven at best. They were headed west across the planes of Rohan, to the Misty Mountains or maybe the ruins of Orthânc. Either was a risky journey and not one made for its scenic value. Although Orc numbers where dwindling, it was not uncommon for the more desperate or just stupid to risk a raid on a small settlement or village to boost their supplies. For this reason the Rohirrim kept strict patrols of their territory even though Sauron and his minions had been overthrown almost five years ago. In any case, this rough band of miscreants had managed to slip through the net seemingly undetected and, if not caught, would only spell trouble.

So it was that we found ourselves on their trail. The thought of an impending fight was something to be relished as hardly any of us had seen any action in the past few months. I practically ached for combat, the feel of a blade slashing through sinew. I could almost smell the fear of our prey in my nostrils. But we'd have to catch them first.

This didn't seem to be much of a problem, they were travelling on foot whereas we were mounted and the ground between us seemed to be floating away. They knew we were after them. Their speed had picked up almost immediately after we had gained pursuit, though this still had little effect. By the time the sun had fully risen we were almost on their tails and their defeat looked inevitable. Of course, we hadn't bargained on them running into Fangorn.

They must have gone in there out of sheer desperation, what other explanation could there be? It was true it made our job a lot harder, but what lurked inside Entwood's boarders was a fate far worse then anything that we would have done to them. But what if they managed to get out of their alive? We couldn't risk it; our only option was to go in after them.

The horses whinnied as soon as we came within fifty metres of the tree line. They would have to be left outside. It was pointless to take them in anyway, they where too big to be able to manoeuvre with any efficiency. I dismounted first, walking with apprehension past the shadowy boarders. It was true that I did have permission to enter, I was welcome, and yet it still felt like an intrusion. But the forest held that same mystery. The trees still whispered to me as the fresh rain pattered on their leaves. They called inviting yet warning not to get too close. Ages where ingrained upon their infinite wisdom and yet they could tell you nothing of them. Like a mute storyteller.

All this could be worried about later, for now courtesy would just have to be left behind. So I started searching. Everything leaves it's mark no matter how small and Orcs where no different. It didn't take me too long to find the blood, to me it stood out like a sore thumb. It showed at least one of them was hurt, why was unimportant, it just meant that at least one of the party would be slowing the rest down. I motioned to Firowen and gave him orders, after which we spilt up and began a full search of the area. We might have lost some of the advantage in time we'd gained earlier but what was the point of heading out after the band if we didn't even know which way they where going?

The forest retained had that natural silence that I had noted on my first trip in. A brook heavy with melted snow from the mountains was really the only other sound apart from the rain. And our own feet skimmed noiselessly over the ground as not to alert any enemies to our position. All this only added to the drowned atmosphere that encompassed us. I searched for the others in between the vast trunks and scattered foliage. If I concentrated I could see little oddities to assure me of their presence but otherwise it would have been almost impossible to make them out. There, behind a grand birch were the twins, each mimicking the others stride and stance though not on purpose. Far off in a patch of ferns was the enormous hunched figure of Cer and a little to the right of him stood Firowen inspecting a broken branch.

I turned back to the area ahead of me only to hear the snap of branches and the sound of ropes straining with a newly encountered burden. My head whipped round to see where the noise had come from and yet I was met with nothing. Furrowing my brows in bemusement, I sought out my companions but came up short. Firowen and Cer were stood in the positions I had seen them last but unlike myself were staring confused at the spot that the twins had once been examining. My eyes trailed to there also and as I had expect there was no sign of them.

Two down. Three to go.

A search a little further up the tree line had proved fruitful and we'd found the two hanging in a rather crude net held far off the ground. The three of us stood at the base of the large oak that the two were stranded in. Immediately Firowen started the climb up to where the rope holding the net was anchored.

"Could this really have been done by the Orcs?" Asked Cer. I knew what he meant. They could only have been in here five minutes ahead of us; they wouldn't have had the time to set this kind of a trap.

"What's going on?" I whispered back. It was then that something caught my eye, a flash of silver in the distance. It might have been a sword, amour maybe, it didn't matter. He saw it too and after a quick word to Firowen, who was ambling up among the branches, we crept off in the direction we'd seen the object. When we were a few metres away from the target we split up to form a pincer attack. Myself taking the left and Cer taking the right. It meant who ever it was had nowhere to run. Soon I could hear them, inches away, their breathing heavy and sluggish. The person was barely an arms length away from me now.

Risking a small glance from behind the large trunk that separated us I made out the figure. Like us the person was covered from head to toe in a long mossy green cloak and was most definitely un-orclike. Noiselessly unsheathing a dagger from my back, I took one huge steep and grabbed the figure in my arms. With one arm pinning theirs to their sides the other held the thin bladed object to their neck.

"Who are you?" I asked between clenched teeth, for some reason feeling a little breathless. Cer stepped into the tiny clearing that myself and the assailant stood in. I nodded to him, which was a hard thing to do as the person in my grasp was only slightly shorter than me, to assure him that the situation was under control. There was still only silence from under the cowl and the seconds passed in stifled bliss until just as I was drawing breath to ask again, a long chuckle broke the tense air. I felt both agitated and confused. Not only did the person not have the sense to answer my question, they where downright laughing at someone who could kill them on the spot. That kind of arrogance was rare.

"So." Came the final response. "I guess you finally caught me. Took your time, though." I knew that voice. Smug, self assured and slightly resentful…yet there was a fear that had not been present at our last encounter. "It amazes me that a primitive trap created for Orcs could be set off by two fully trained Elven _warriors_." She said the word littered with heavy sarcasm.

"La…Yunalesca?" I managed. Why had her presence come as such a shock? I should have expected her to be here, it was the place she called home after all. She let out a slight cough and all of a sudden I became painfully aware that my arm was held all too tightly across her…chest. I let go of her quickly and took the hood that covered my face down. She mirrored my action after a moment and threw a Look™ in Cer's direction which was somewhat hindered by the piece of cloth covering her left eye.

"Go aid Firowen," I said to him. "I'll be fine here." He looked rather unconvinced. "She's a friend, and besides, I can handle myself." With a nod he walked off in the direction of the others and left us with some privacy.

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" I chose to pointedly ignore her comment.

"What's been happening, Yunalesca?" I asked, concern brimming in my voice. If her appearance was anything to go by then it wasn't good.

Her face was scattered with small cuts and scrapes, nothing major but alarming all the same. Her usually impeccably neat hair was matted with small twigs, leaves and an abundance of dirt as it frizzed up around her face. I could see now that the cloak she was wearing was torn in places and covered in grime, which was about the same state as what I could see of her garments. As for the dirty strip of cloth that adorned her eye, it was crinkled and stained with dried blood and obviously hid a serious wound that hadn't been properly treated. Her whole stance was weakened, her frame shaking slightly. She hid it well, though. But try as she might, she was unable to conceal the exhaustion evident in her eye. The defiant fire, the steady glare weaved with cynicism, it was gone. Her eyelids drooped slightly. She was exhausted. I could see tears in her clothes, exposing fresh and old slashes and cuts, some still bleeding slightly. To tell the truth, she looked as if she was about to keel over and give up. She needed help, and soon.

"Nothing." She lied as fluent as ever.

What was he doing here? I didn't need him. Not now. Not when I was so close to putting all this to an end. He had to leave. He could go shove his invitation from Treebeard where the sun didn't shine for all I cared. This was _my _business, not his. Him and his band of merry men would only go and make it worse.

"And anyway, it's no business of yours, Greenwood." I said, annoyed. "So don't worry your pretty little head about it and just get right back where you came from. Understood?" With that I turned to leave, I had bigger fish to fry. But he couldn't just leave it at that. _He _had the complete nerve to grab me by the shoulders and turn me back round to face him. What was he playing at?

"Yuna." He said softly. "Why are you being like this?" His little puppy-dog eyes bored into mine with such intensity that I almost gave in. '_No._' I thought and jerked myself away from his grasp. '_I can't, not now._'

"Just leave, Legolas!" I shouted in frustration. "It isn't a request." I threatened. Of course I didn't want to hurt him, but if it came down to it, I wouldn't hold back. "If you and your companions do not go than I will be forced to consider you as hostile. Don't think I won't defend my home."

"Yuna, listen." He said, his tone harsher than I'd ever heard it before. I must really have been pissing him off. Good. If it was what it took for him to get the hell out of here then it was all the same to me. "All we are trying to do is help you. I don't know why you can't see that but it's true. If you're so narrow minded that you couldn't even accept help when you obviously need it…"

"Look, I don't need yours, or anyone else's, _help_." I spat the word out as if it left a foul taste in my mouth. "Why can't_ you_ see that I don't need your charity." With that I turned to leave, swearing to myself that if he tried to stop me again I'd make him pay for it. He didn't.

"Get back to the horses." I said to the group that was assembled under the oak. The twins were now back on solid ground and seemed very thankful of the fact. "I should back within the next three hours and even if I do not return by then, none of you are to re-enter the forest. It is too dangerous." They gave me a round of confused looks, a multitude of questions already on the tips of their tongues. Firowen, of course, was the first to ask.

"What about you? Where are you going?" But I need not have answered; he already knew what I would have said. "You're going after that woman, aren't you." He nodded solemnly.

"Please, trust me." I implored to them.

"You've said that before." Said Celoril jokingly, the older of the twins. I half-smiled as distant memories of days long gone flooded my mind.

"That was a long time ago." I responded.

"We'll trust you, Greenleaf." Came Nólad's small voice. Although him and his brother were almost completely alike in appearance, both their voice and characters were almost entirely different. "You're both our Prince and leader, we respect your decision."

"But you better get your pretty-boy ass back here, got me?" Firowen mocked a threat. "Because I for one am not going to tell your father that you ran off into some forest after some woman you haven't seen in what is it? Six? Seven years? Why you are even going is beyond me, but if you feel you must…just be careful. I don't want to lose my best friend." With those parting words the five trekked back to where the horses had been left. I had told Firowen of the journey leading up to the destruction of the Ring, and he had seemed particularly intrigued with the female that had appeared out of nowhere and tagged along with us. It had been just under six years since I had seen her last, parting at the entrance to this very wood. From the looks of it, things had taken a turn for the worst.

It wasn't incredibly difficult to find Yuna's trail. She wasn't thinking right, either she didn't care about being found or she had the inability to hide herself with any of the efficiency she usually had. It took me two hours alone to find her, for no matter how badly her mind had been effected, her skills were deeply implanted. She had replaced the hood and was now standing over the lying body of an Orc that seemed to have misplaced its head. Blood covered the clearing that she was stood in and with all the broken and crushed foliage it was obvious that a struggle had taken place.

"Before you ask." She said as I approached. "I didn't kill it, even though I wish I had. Wounded it earlier." She nudged its knee with her foot and a splattering of blood surged out. "It must have been slowing them down and you know the best way to get rid of dead weight right? Just dump it." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Almost makes you feel sorry for the savage." A pause and then. "What are you doing here in any case?" '_She must have finally come back to her senses._' I thought to myself. "I told you to leave, Legolas. Don't think I didn't mean it." Yuna moved towards me with intent. I started to notice little things as she strode the couple of feet. The twitch of her uncovered eye, the way her hands shook at her sides. Even her walk seemed strained and painful.

"Yuna, you're not well, it's plain for anyone to see. I'm not just going to leave you in this state." She halted mid-step and came to rest on her left foot a little too frigid for my liking.

"Why do you care?" I'd heard that sentence before.

"Because I know you, whether you like it or not you're a good person and you don't deserve this." She was, I'm sure, about to come out with one of her witty comebacks, when the both of us smelt something seeping through the air.

Smoke.

It was mingled in with the rain but it still smelt alien in such a place. Yuna's eyes widened and immediately she turned on her heel and sped off in the direction of the offending odour. Without any great debating I followed her, seeing little alternative. Bushes and branches flew by in a blur as I came along beside her. The wind gained in intensity and knocked my hood down to rest around my shoulders. Raindrops bit into any exposed skin and once again my garments where becoming drenched. But I knew Yuna could run faster, something must have been holding her back. Before I knew it, she'd got her foot lodged in an overgrown root and was heading for a crash collision with the ground. It was so unlike her. Where was the grace? The faith in her own abilities? Within seconds I was by her side, catching her by the waist inches from the ground. She felt far too light for her size in my arms and even through her clothes I could feel just how thin she'd become. I helped her to her feet with little effort and immediately she released herself from my hold. I didn't expect a word of gratitude and wasn't disappointed.

Already she was ahead of me again and it seemed we were nearing our destination. In front of us a plume of smoke billowed out into the sky. It seeped along leaves and choked pores with seething envy. And in the middle of the torrent, huge orange and golden flames leapt and licked the sky. I could just about make out where it was coming from. In a large clearing framed by ferns and birches, there lay the carcass of an immense tree. How long it had been there was impossible to tell, anywhere from the past five years to five thousand. Standing, it must have been huge, maybe a hundred and thirty feet in height and fifty in diameter. Now all that was left was a husk that at that precise moment was being engulfed in flames. The rain seemed to be little hindrance to blaze, the downpour being of no effect on the raging inferno. There didn't seem to be any sign of the culprits. But I was sure Yuna had the same idea as me as to who they were.

Neither of us had slowed down till now. Yuna had almost completely stopped as we got within a couple feet and stared at the sight in disbelief. Through the haze appeared a dark figure. Stout, fat and clothed in dark hide and blackened amour. It's beady eyes met for a brief moment with Yuna's and almost instantaneously it seemed he went from naught to fifty. I glanced towards her, seeing her face contort with rage. She seemed to launch herself off the ground as she sped after him. Beds of leaves kicked up in her wake, she wasn't bothering with haste, just speed. I started after them, drawing a dagger at my side. I reached the clearing she had entered a fraction of a second ago. The Orc scuttled away, joining in a group of about thirty or forty. There was no way we could take them out alone, even if there was two of us. She skidded to a halt, her eyes flicking over the scene, The Orcs swivelled their heads round to see us. Exactly a second later, I heard the sound of a sword being drawn.

She couldn't. Even she wasn't that brave. Or stupid. There was no way she could kill them all, even if I was here. I remembered Helm's Deep. But that was different. They could only come one or two at a time, here, even the best fighter would be swarmed.

"Don't risk it." I whispered, she gave me a sidelong glance. "We can't take them all." She looked at me unbelievingly.

"Don't tell me you came all this way just to back out on me." Her tone was almost mocking. She was too arrogant for her own good sometimes. I secretly wondered how she could have survived for so long. The Orcs stood, some fanning out at the sides, ready to charge at the slightest movement or command from their leader. Her sword, a plain, short thing, was ready to strike. Her top lip was positively twitching with anticipation.

What was he talking about? He was the one that insisted on following me relentlessly for the past couple of hours. What did he think he was doing telling me how to fight? There were a lot of them, that much was clear, but I was confident that I'd be able to take them down. My grip on my sword handle twisted. The weedy Orc I had chased here was somewhere at the back. I'd make them pay, I'd make them all pay for coming in here and thinking they could do whatever they liked. My teeth gritted, my feet ground into the earth, let them come.

Come they did, with a muffled signal they charged, their boots clanking and scraping like their twisted black armour.

Then something I did not expect happened. My left arm was forcefully jerked back, an Elven hand firmly grasping my wrist. I stumbled and could only follow reluctantly as I was pulled backwards. I tried to tug my arm back, but he wouldn't let go, I wasn't strong enough in my current state. I hadn't noticed before now how drained I felt.

I was angry with him, no doubt about that. Who did he think he was? He had no right to do what he was doing, it was as if he thought his title could be towed around everywhere he went. I could hear the hot blood pumping through my head; I was suddenly incredibly tired. This new found weariness chipped away all thoughts of battle and I found myself willingly following him. I wasn't about to admit it, but he'd been right. Now I thought about it, I wouldn't have been able to take them all even if he was there, much less by myself. Well…not in this state anyway.

Wait. Where was he going? He didn't have a clue where he was heading, just randomly twisting this way and that in an attempt to lose them. It wasn't working. They were too close. My wits gathering about me once more, I waited until we were close enough then grabbed his wrist and jerked him round to the side. Like I expected, he was pushed over a nearby fallen log to our left and hit the ground with a slight thud, he gave me a split second quizzical glance before I leapt over to hastily lay beside him. I did three things almost simultaneously. Firstly, With my right elbow and leg, I attacked the rotten log with as much power as I had left. It quickly caved in after two blows. Secondly, I turned to the right, grabbed Legolas' tunic and, with him, rolled inside. Thirdly, I pointedly ignored the fact that he was now directly beneath me, and clamped a hand over his mouth. All of this took place in just under four seconds.

The perfectly hollow log had been there for a while yet, rotten with years. It was easily big enough for two people to squeeze inside. My plan was working perfectly. If all went well they wouldn't even notice we'd gone off the trail. I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing, which was behaving rather erratically due to the sudden bursts of exercise. He seemed to understand, so I slowly removed my hand, desperately wishing for the Orcs to run past so I could be out of this log with the inbred blonde.

They hurried past after what seemed like hours but in reality were a matter of seconds. When their footprints had died down, I rolled off Legolas and got up immediately, dusting myself off. He clambered out a second later, looking after where they had run. With one last glance in his direction, I started at a light run towards the area I generally 'lived' in.

"Wait." I stopped, not turning around. "Where are you going?"

"It is none of your concern. I don't suggest you follow, but I doubt you'll take my advice." With that I picked up my pace again, not caring if he decided to turn around and go back to his men.

She was stubborn as a mule. Why couldn't she just accept my help? Why did she have to be too arrogant to see past her own capabilities? And why for the sake of the Valar was I still following her?

There she was, rooting through a small, wooden chest, her back turned to me, and I doubted she even knew I was--

"Hello again." She said casually, flinging some random sheathe off to one side. There was a small pack to the left, I could see two blades poking out of it. A few unidentifiable items were placed haphazardly into the sack before I saw her take much more care into packing a wrapped blade -- '_Luccrecía_' I appraised absentmindedly -- into the leather case on her back.

She _lived_ here? As I looked about the barren clearing, the only sign of life the worn ground, I had trouble believing that statement. There was a single large tree in the centre, which looked as if it had been dead for more that a few centuries. I had not time to further ponder this anomaly's habits as she then got up, shouldering her package, and took off at a run past me, flinging a "Bye, again," In my general direction. I wasn't going to let this happen, not again. I reached out and firmly grasped her wrist. It seemed the only way to get her attention these days.

"Stop." She did so, turning round to face me, keeping the glare firmly on her face. "At least tell me where you're going." She shrugged, feigning indifference.

"Fair enough. I'm off to very possibly get myself killed whilst defending my home. Want to come?"

"This is pointless. Why do you seem so determined to simply throw your life away without a second thought?"

"Why not?" She shot back. "And don't tell me I'm a good person or anything like that. I may as well be a stain on the fabric of intelligent life for all most people care. I don't even have a proper _race_ for crying out loud!" So that was what she thought of herself? I couldn't say I was surprised, but it was odd hearing her state it so easily. "Just let _me_ fight _my_ own battles. I don't even know why you're here in the first place. Do yourself, your little friends and me a favour, and just leave. All of you." She turned once more to go.

"Don't do this. You're not well. You need help, and here's no way you can carry on fighting and running around this forest until you get some."

"The only way you can help me is to do exactly what I asked you to do, and _get out!"_ She was almost shouting now. Her voice broke slightly with the effort. It almost sounded as if she was about to cry, but I knew better.

"Listen to me!" She faced me, a steady scowl in place on her cut lips. "Just come back with me. Only for an hour or so, to get your wounds properly dressed at least." I could tell she wanted to say yes, but she wasn't about to admit it, not after all that.

"No, _you_ listen, I just…" She dragged out the word for longer than normal before inhaling sharply and bringing a hand to her head in pain. She swayed slightly, taking a step forward before exhaling shakily. "Just…" She whispered. And then her legs gave in, sending her plummeting forward. I caught her by the shoulders, watching her body go limp. She was unconscious.

A.N. On to the reviews! (Most of them, anyway.)

plumsy321: We will, don't worry. This soon enough for you?

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	21. Obstinance

A.N.

_"…This doubt is screaming in my face  
in this familiar place,  
sheltered and concealed  
and if this night won't let me rest  
don't let me second guess  
what I know to be real put away  
all I know for tonight and maybe I just might learn  
to let it go take my security from me  
and maybe finally I won't have to know everything  
I am falling into grace to the unknown to where you are  
and faith makes everybody scared it's the unknown,  
the don't-know that keeps me hanging on  
to you I got nothing left to defend  
I cannot pretend that everything makes sense  
but does it really matter now if I do not know how  
to figure this thing out  
I am against myself again trying to fit  
these pieces in walking on a cloud of dust to get to you…"_

_Lifehouse__ Unknown _

Chapter Nineteen: Obstinance

Consciousness. My eyes stayed closed as I brought my mind to the here and now. My tired senses were still begging for sleep, but I had to know where I was before any of that. I surveyed my surroundings as best I could without the gift of sight.

I was lying on the ground, on a bed of soft grass, fresh from rain that had fallen earlier but had quickly dried up. A blanket -- or cloak, I couldn't be sure -- was draped over me, I lay on my back, my head to one side, one arm folded across my chest. It was night. I could tell not because of the lack of light shining through my eyelids -- for I could just as easily lay in a cave or under a thick canopy -- but from the sounds, the cool air and the atmosphere. It was easy for me to pick out little details like that when I needed to; I didn't even have to think that hard.

From what I could feel, I wasn't much cleaner than when I'd lost consciousness, and my wounds were still just as prominent as before. Whoever it was certainly hadn't bothered to heal me. I felt mildly disappointed for a period of less than a second.

I wasn't in Entwood, that much was blindingly obvious. There was no way that the kind of grass below me could grow in a place as dark as that.

I could hear voices, low and male, to my left. There was a campfire also, I could easily smell the smoke, hear the crackling of wood and feel the far off heat on one side of my face. I decided to open my eyes a fraction, at least to get a good view of whom I was with. It was with great reluctance that my eyelids creaked open, revealing a number of unidentifiable shapes, my vision too blurred and obscure to make out anything.

The first thing that hit me as my sight cleared up was the harsh glare of he firelight. It reminded me of the growing migraine that I had desperately been trying to suppress. I inhaled sharply, clenching my eyes shut as a wave of pain washed over me. I cursed myself for my own stupidity. They would hear me…then why did they carry on talking? I risked another glance and found them in the same position, engrossed in conversation. To the left sat a small frame, a man, Elvish, with hair as golden as the slightly larger man next to him. On both occasions it reached a few inches below their shoulders. They were Elvish, all three of them, as much was obvious by their hair and of course their ears.

But the third…there was the oddity…

He sat to the far right, nodding occasionally to contribute to the conversation, but never talking. His light brown hair hung in large curls about a slightly rounder face than I would have expected. An elf with curly hair? This was new…

Also, his build intrigued me. He was by far the biggest person there, at least a good half foot taller than the centre figure. He seemed more built than the others, his shoulders wider, chest broader. He almost looked like a very clean human, but those ears…

His eyes, a dark ocean blue, met with mine. I didn't flinch. His pupils danced in the firelight as he looked to the centre figure and then back at me.

I heard them stop talking immediately, they knew I was awake. The middle Elf got up and silently crossed the five or so feet to where I lay, his features shadowed by the light on his back.

"Yuna?" Legolas. I should have known. My mind raced with all the things I could say back. What was he doing? He had no right to take me away from my home like that. It angered me, but I subdued my rage for long enough to suitably repress my headache.

"Where am I?" I asked tiredly, squinting to make out his face.

"We are just south of the forest of Lothlorien." Already? How long was I out? Why did they take me with them? What was going on? I was about to ask at least one of the questions on my lips when he spoke again. "Are you feeling at all better?"

"I'm _fine_. That's exactly what I _tried_ to tell you."

"You are injured, you are exhausted, and you are certainly in no state to think about fighting." He was a persistent little bastard, I'd give him that. "We thought of healing you, but we didn't want to do anything further without your permission." Smart guy.

"Well as long as I'm here, are you camped near a river? Stream? Anything?" I felt horrid and my first priority would be getting clean and properly tending to my wounds. He nodded.

"As a matter of fact we are. There is a small brook a minute or two away." He looked briefly to the small figure by the fireside. "If you wish, there is a healer amongst us whom could tend to the more serious of your wounds." He looked pointedly at the bandage about my eye. I sighed.

"Fine, I suppose." I sat up, removing the blanket. "Weren't there more of you people before? What happened?" To tell the truth I didn't really care, but I wanted to get the conversation away from me.

"Two of our number, Firowen and Celoril rode ahead to inform my father that we shall be arriving slightly late. Firowen? That was a woman's name. I found it hard to believe, yet mildly amusing that he had a female amongst his travelling companions. That," He pointed to the smaller figure. "Is Nólad, and that," The larger of the two, the oddity, looked up. "Is Cer." I made a sound of acknowledgement and tried my best to get up on my feet without falling flat on my face. It didn't work. My legs refused to straighten beneath me and I found my arm being held up by Legolas'. I wrenched it away as soon as I regained my balance.

"_Thank_ you." He said nothing, but walked in front of me until we reached a small stream, picturesque as it bubbled over rocks. I collapsed down at the bank, removing my leather brigandine and throwing it off to one side. I was left in my elbow-length dim green top and dark leggings.

The first thing I did was wash my face. A more refreshing activity, I cannot remember. He was there, off to one side somewhere. I wondered why he didn't just back to camp and let me get on with it, but then again, he probably thought I'd try to run off. I wasn't that stupid. I knew to wait 'til the rest of them were suitably asleep.

"Yuna." I had just finished tying my hair back suitably when he spoke, interrupting the blissful silence.

"Hmm?" I didn't bother to look at him.

"What's going on?" What?

"What?" I stopped and turned my head to face him.

"What happened to you? How long have you been fighting?" It was easy for me to shoot some obvious, sarcastic comment back, but I refrained from doing so.

"To tell the truth, that was my first decent night's sleep in over two months now. That might not seem too bad to someone like you, but remember, I'm not _like_ you." I paused. I might as well carry on, tell him everything. After all, what would he care? "As for what's going on, I'm not sure. It started about four months ago. The attacks were relatively small at first, nothing out of the ordinary, then…they started getting worse. More of them would come, at the same time, more frequently. It was…more than one person could handle. I had just dispatched a smaller group to the east when I heard of another, larger group, thirty or forty to the south. Imagine my surprise when I show up five minutes late and find not Orcs, but a troop of interfering Elves." He wasn't phased by my comment in the least.

"And the Ents?"

"When…when the Ents decided to go to war, that was one of the first times in their history for such a thing. To my knowledge anyway. They were…let us say _severely_ provoked. Now, not only are there less of them, but they cannot fight back, either there are not enough of them together, or they are not strong enough. The Orcs generally stay away from the trees and the areas of the forest where the Ents stay. Instead, they almost go straight for wherever I am." I paused. "It's strange, I never really thought about it until now, but they didn't fight like Orcs. They weren't just mindless killers. I got injured, yes, but not nearly as much as I would have otherwise…"

"Did it ever occur to you that they may be after you?" I had to laugh at that.

"Of course not. What would anyone want with me besides to kill me?" He shrugged. A minute of silence passed.

"So, do you forgive me?" What was he talking about now?

"For what?"

"Dragging you away from almost certain death to travel along with me and my 'merry men'?"

"Oh, that. No, of course not. You still have a long way to go. But…" I added as I saw his pathetic infringement of my copyrighted Look™ "I suppose I shall stay with you until I deem I am well again. At which point, make no mistakes, I shall return home as soon as I am able."

"Fair enough." I was now satisfied with the condition of my hair and face, as well as soothed my aching feet in the water, and allowed myself to be led back to camp, where Nólad was waiting. I sat myself down in front of him rather reluctantly as Legolas wondered off to 'talk' to Cer, content that I was under satisfactory supervision.

The boy, for some reason I couldn't quite think of him as a man, gave me a brief half-smile, I assumed to put me at ease, before he started. His hands were quick and gentle as he applied all matter of mixtures to my face and other more sever wounds. Some smelling of honey and sandalwood whilst others I smelled of things I couldn't quite grasp in my current state, but reminded me of wild mint. As he worked, to my surprise I saw in his bright blue eyes nothing that so many others carried as they gazed upon me. There was no hate, no malice, no question, only an acceptance that, in my twisted head, made me all the more wary of him.

"You were one of two in the net weren't you?" I said, in an attempt to start a conversation that might give me some clue as to how he really felt towards me. If anything, I hated being in the dark on these matters. He merely nodded, not taking his eyes away from the gash on my left arm that he was currently attending to. I tried again. "Who was the other person?"

"Celoril." He replied shortly. His voice didn't contain any annoyance; he just seemed to be genuinely interested in his work. Strange.

"So…you two seemed kind of similar, same walk, same stance. Is he your brother?" Okay, it didn't really seem relevant, but even the tone he answered in could give some clue.

"Twin brother." He replied just the same. It was hopeless; I wasn't going to get anything out of him. Not in my current state in any case.

"Well…sorry about that anyway." I couldn't help one last ditch effort.

"Don't worry about it." He said pleasantly as he finished on my arm, wrapping white linen bandages over the wound. '_No luck._' I thought. '_For now._' There was one last thing left that he had avoided touching since he'd started. My left eye.

"May I?" He said, gesturing to the crude dressing. After a moment's apprehension, I nodded my consent. He brought his hands to untie the knot that held it up but I stopped him.

"I'll…do that." I wasn't comfortable enough to let him get too close, and besides, why should I when I could do it myself? With that I brought my own hands up and, after fidgeting for a while with the dirt encrusted knot, grasped the dark shred of cloth in between my fingers. He smiled again, still no malice but obviously a little nervous at the prospect of hurting the tender tissue around my eye. Squinting a little, he assessed the damage. There was no great damage to the lens or retina and after a few hard blinks I could see pretty much fine. But the cornea was bloodshot and the eyelid had been split at the bottom.

"Good thing is." He started off matter-of-factly. "It's not that serious. Bad thing is that it'll take about a week, even with my help, to fully heal." I shrugged. A week seemed nothing at all to me.

"Well," I said in a friendly manner as not to upset him. "Get started."

It was about three hours later, midnight. I had dozed for the time after Nólad had said that there was little more he could do for me. He had applied some poultice or other to the wound on my eye and it was now freshly bandaged, although it seemed to itch somewhat.

The group of three was positioned closer to the dying fire. From what I could tell, the aforementioned and Cer were lying on opposite sides of the fire, enjoying the Elven trance that was sleep to them. The Prince was left on watch, not exactly to my advantage as I naturally assumed he was the most likely to spot me out of the three. The big one didn't strike me as too intelligent and I hardly thought the boy, although a skilled healer had much of a hope in that area.

I waited. Something I was all too good at. Taking my advantage when I was sure Legolas' back was turned and his eyes were fully concentrated on the stars, I ran silently, and within moments had left the clearing and had the brook in my sights. Minutes later and I had put quite some distance between myself and those still by the fire. I sniffed the air. A scent that had been plaguing me since my previous visit to the water was heavy in the air here.

Amroth. I knew he was close but I couldn't give him a sign. It would not only alert him but the others also. Instead I decided to follow my senses and hope that they'd lead me to him. As I walked through the light covering of trees a thought struck me. Why hadn't Legolas picked up the same scent? He was just as if not more sensitive as I was to the unfamiliar presence in this place, wasn't he? If so then why hadn't he said anything? It didn't matter now. I'd just have to ignore the risk that I'd already been found out and carry on.

It was a few minutes before I finally found Amroth, his soft whinnies drawing me to him. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not as far as I could hear. My vision was still obscured by branches, the fact that one of my eyes was almost completely useless and the fact that it was now completely dark.

"There you are my Ami…"I whispered as I drew near but drifted off as I beheld our unwanted guest. He must have known all along, maybe even planned it. But it didn't matter, I was leaving here and I certainly didn't need his permission, or his help. "What are you doing here?" I asked the futile question.

"Trying to make you see that it is stupid to charge back there when it is obvious you need rest." He replied sternly.

"Legolas…" I thought of saying "just leave me alone" but if it hadn't worked last time it was doubtful it was going to work this time round. "Please…don't you see I can't just leave it? Fangorn, I mean. I know Orcs; they'll get bored and start tearing trees down for no good reason. The Ents won't do anything, they haven't visited that side of the forest for years, they probably don't even know what's going on. I'm the only thing that can stop them and whether you like it or not I am going back." He looked swayed, almost as if he was going to give in, but if there was one thing I could say about him it was that he was stubborn.

"I'm not letting you go." He stated softly. "Why can't _you_ see that you'll never beat them when you are utterly exhausted?" I tired to object but he continued before I had a chance. "If you come back with me and stay for a couple of weeks then I will convince my father to send as many people as you need to stop the whatever's happening." I glared at him.

"A couple of weeks! A couple of weeks and the whole forest could be gone, raised to the ground. And as for your _help_, your _charity_. Well you can keep it, I've never accepted it before, I'm not going to start now." With that I walked over to Amroth and prepared to mount him.

"I know better than to try and stop you from leaving." He said, sighing. "But at least let me have one last word?" I stopped, one hand on Amroth's mane and the other by my clenched by my side. "I'm sure that the forest can do without you for just a few short weeks, just as much as I'm sure you don't believe me. But do you really think that anyone, especially me, would think any less of you for accepting help when you so obviously need it?"

"I don't need your help…" I whispered.

"Yes, you do." He replied, risking to take my wrist into his own larger hand, drawing it away from Amroth's back. "Whether _you_ like it or not, I consider you a friend. And I, for one, do not stand idly by whilst my friends are in such need as you are." I sighed, long and drawn out.

"If you promise it will only be for a couple of weeks." I could hardly believe what I was saying. "No more." He nodded.

"And no less. I promise."

"I'm fine!" I said in outrage. "I can ride my own bloody horse. I've been doing it for a long time without any one else's help, what makes you think I'd need yours now?"

"You're not well enough to ride a horse alone. You're exhausted, and if you fall off it would only make things a lot worse for yourself." I dug for something legitimate to say.

"But…Amroth would never let me fall, and…besides, I don't like the look of your horse." It was good enough.

"What? But Arod's almost exactly like yours."

"Well he _should_ be!" I decided to surprise him.

"What…?" A look of utter incomprehension crossed his face.

"I _told_ you it'd be your fault if I had a miniature Arod to deal with." His eyes widened in shock. "Do you have _any_ idea how annoying it is having a pregnant horse? I had to _walk_ everywhere. I had to _watch_ the arrival of little Amroth into the world. Let me tell you, it is _not_ a spectator sport!"

It took us just under a week to reach Mirkwood, now known as Eryn Lasgalen, me passing in and out of consciousness throughout. We had skimmed past East Lórien, not bothering to enter. From there, we continued North to the Old Ford, where we crossed the Anduin without much incident…

_"Amroth!__ Stop being so stupid and get out of the bloody water!"_

…We took the Old Forest Road to the River Running, where we continued up to the Elvenking's Halls. I didn't talk much to anyone, even Legolas. Cer, upon further probing, seemed intelligent enough, but he still didn't speak much, if at all. I was told that he was generally silent, speaking only when something really needed to be said. Nólad…well he was just naturally quiet. He was shy and the only real interaction we had was when he redressed my wounds. I retracted my earlier assessment; his good will was genuine. Although it was refreshing, I couldn't help but think that his optimism was something of a weakness.

To tell the truth, the biggest conversation I had with Legolas was when he explained to me the dividing of the woods, something I knew had happened, but the details escaped me. The northern region, up to the mountains, was named Eryn Lasgalen and was governed by Thranduil, just as it had always done. The southern region was named East Lórien and given to Celeborn. In between was given to the Beornings and Woodmen. With the fall of Sauron and the cleansing of the forest, the majority of the Spiders had dissipated. With them, Mirkwood generally lost the majority of its murk and became Eryn Lasgalen. The Wood of Greenleaves. I had to laugh at that, until Legolas told me that actually was what it was called, and not a publicity stunt on his part.

As for my inability to ride, this was proven when I mounted, rode unassisted for all of four minutes, then promptly fell off as I drifted to sleep. The remainder of the journey was spent with Amroth trailing behind uselessly, myself propped up on Arod's back, siting in front of Legolas. Which, by definition, made most of the trip unbearable.

Alright, so perhaps it wasn't _that_ unbearable…

A.N. Reviews:

Serpent of Light: You see? You can't go, you're one of our best and most loyal readers. We weren't aware that the last chapter was a cliffhanger, but…I guess so, yeah. This is more of a cliffhanger, in my (Rai's) humble opinion.

Lilena: Thank you, you've just made me go back and answer one of your questions. Well observed. See? This is why we need lovely people like you to ask questions and point out our tremendous plot-holes.

jeffiner1127: Well, we'd be Cyber-Goths if we had the money, so if someone offers to buy us some cool, gothy corsets, who are we to refuse? Yes, we're freaks, and that's why you love us.

AngelsExist: Well wait no longer, hun. Thanks for stopping by.

NightLight4: I do like the Sam bit, one of the many random musings that hit you at three in the morning. This is a pretty slow fic, but things should heat up soon (In more ways than one winks).

Sparkle23: Ah, you're the one. Tali woke me up and dragged me kicking and screaming from my nice, comfy bed (literally) to come read "the best review!" I was not disappointed. Thanks a lot, you're one of the main reasons we spent half that day writing (in fact, you are THE reason), just so you wouldn't be disappointed. Hehe, thanks for the little ego boost, but I'm sad to say it will be short lived, as we'll change a few obvious things to keep the fic going (e.g. Legolas doesn't start a little Elvish colony in Ithilien, Gimli doesn't hang around wasting space…)

I Get Stalked By Snowmen: Hey! So do I! Anyway, nice to the point review, thank you for appreciating my little ™ after Looks. I thought that was a great idea, and no one seems to notice it. sniff

Pepsi Bob: Ah yes, the Sues, the greatest evil Middle-Earth has ever known.

Loofa Sponge: Do you have any idea how hard it was writing Haldir die? I almost cried in the movie, never mind writing about it! We thought about it, but in the end we decided to show off a bit of her week side by letting her grieve a bit.


	22. Welcome

_"…And I've tasted, the bitter tragedy of lives wasted  
And men who glimpsed the darkness inside, but never faced it  
And it's a shame that most of you are following sheep  
Wallowing deeper than the darkness, you're falling asleep  
You won't believe the things I've seen  
Far beyond your wildest dreams  
I've seen chaos and order reign supreme  
I've seen the beauty of the universe  
so peaceful and serene  
in seconds turn to violence and screams  
I've seen and experienced things  
that'll push the average to the edge and swan dive to death…"_

_Spooks Things I've seen._

Chapter Twenty: Welcome

It was night. Though it was somewhat hard to tell due to the overbearing coverage of branches and leaves that blanketed the skyline over Eryn Lasgalen. We'd been travelling through the forest and around its borders for the past two and a half days now and finally we'd reached The Elvenking's Gate. The large carved double doors protruded from the cliff-face that was just across a sturdy looking bridge made up of wooden planks. Below the bridge, the water ran clear and swift. We crossed the span, the horse's hooves clicking against the hard surface, and carried on up the incline. The doors opened as we approached, without any word or sign from our party. My brows furrowed.

"I thought you had to do something to make them work?" I said to Legolas in my half-asleep state. "You know, like the doors in Moria." He shook his head slightly.

"Before yes." He replied. "But what is the point these days? What little enemies we have know better than to come into our city and everybody else is more than welcome." To me this was a new concept. Letting people just wonder in and out of your territory, doing as they pleased. It wasn't smart. But I wasn't about to bring this topic up now, not when I could barely keep my eyes open.

The light inside the narrow caves that led to the city had also changed since my last visit. Granted this had been over five hundred years previously. Before it had been tinged with red and cast eerie patterns on the dark grey stone, now it was just normal torchlight, nothing special.

"Which route do you want to take?" It was Nólad at Legolas' shoulder.

"We'll go around, best not to disturb any unwanted eyes." He nodded and returned to his position at Arod's flank. At a cross-junction we took a right and continued in the bleak tunnels, whereas, I knew if we'd continued straight on we'd have reached the entrance into the city. It was a good half-hour at a steady trot before we reached the exit near the palace. The pale moonlight filtered into the courtyard we were now in. From what my blurred vision relayed it was impeccably neat with a wide pebble path leading up to the main building that branched out on several occasions. We carried on up the path until we were metres away from the massive stone structure. I could just about make out lights shining down from the various balconies that jutted out above us on the smooth face.

I was vaguely aware that we'd stopped and that Legolas was helping me from Arod's back. I felt it was one of those times where I should protest but I was far too tired to do anything about it. Besides, the truth was that I wouldn't have been able to do it by myself. I felt myself being dragged off indoors whilst the horses were presumably being led to the stables. I thought of shouting after them some comment on how if they didn't treat Amroth well, they'd regret it, but only had the energy to stay upright. In any case, he didn't deserve it. The last things I could remember following that was the harsh glare of torches as we passed them by and the feel of the feather quilt as I collapsed onto it. And a soft voice whispering; "_Creoso a'eska amin,_" as the door creaked shut.

A whistling penetrated my deep state of unconsciousness. It wasn't so much that it was unpleasant, just that the offender had a particularly shrill tone. After a minute or so it changed to a gentle 'dum de dum,' and I was quickly able to surmise that the offender was female, and was the owner of an especially un-Elvish voice. All of a sudden the room went from pleasantly dark to deathly bright as the sound of a curtain being drawn joined the song on my hit list for the morning. As it was, I could now make out the pink of my eyelids and the feel of last night's drool encrusted on one cheek. It wasn't what I longed to wake up to, to put it nicely.

"Nnnghh…" The unintelligible noise exited my mouth. I rolled on to my stomach and attempted to push myself up onto my hands. After which I would track down the intruder of my peace and beat then to death with the nearest object, which happened to be the pillow directly underneath me. I grasped it between my stiff fingers and got up on my rather shaky legs.

"Ah! Lady Yuna! You're up." The cheery voice hit me like an arrow pin-pointed to my brain to give maximum damage.

"Huh…?" I managed, my lips seemed to be glued together. Looking back on it I hadn't been in this bad a state since I was drunk under the table by a rather frizzy dwarf, the name of which I couldn't quite grasp. "Who…" I coughed the phlegm out of my throat and tried again. "Who are you?"

"Gem Boffin, at your service." She replied with a slight curtsy. I rubbed my eyes, not quite believing what I was seeing.

"You're…you're a Hobbit?"

"Indeed I am, Lady Yuna. From Bywater to be precise. I do believe you've met my cousin, Merry Brandybuck." She paused, as she rearranged some flowers in a vase near the bed I'd decided to sit back down on before my legs gave way. "He told me ever so much about you." She continued almost absentmindedly. "How brave and lovely and caring you were." '_Maybe she's mistaken?_' "And about those Ent friends of yours and how they made him _so_ much taller than the others around, so jealous of him they were..."

"How…how is Merry?" I asked out of genuine curiosity.

"Oh, he's just hunky dory from the last time I saw him. But anyway." She carried on almost seamlessly. "Imagine my surprise when Master Legolas brought you in last night. I was practically thrilled to bits." Her hazel eyes shone as she spoke and she gave me a brief grin, which wasn't too different from the perpetual smile that seemed to grace her face.

Blinking a couple of times to clear the sleep from my eyes, I took Gem in. She was the normal size for a Halfling, about four foot one. Her hair was darkish brown and came down in ringlets, framing her pretty, heart-shaped face. She was dressed in normal hobbit attire, which seemed all too out of place with the rest of the décor in the room.

"But, how did you get here?" I asked in confusion. "Hobbits hate leaving the Shire."

"Most do, yes." She admitted. "But when Merry came home and told me of all his adventures, I knew that I just _had_ to go out and see the world for myself."

"So…you just _left_?" I asked incredulously. She nodded as if it was something Hobbits did on a daily basis. A knock sounded at the door of the rather large room.

"Can I come in?" Said a voice, rather muffled due to the thick oak door.

"Of course!" Answered Gem, far too cheerfully for this time in the morning, I thought. The door slowly creaked open and in stepped Legolas rather apprehensively.

"You two getting on alright I see…?" He half-asked, unsure of the situation and presumably hoping Gem hadn't done exactly what she had.

"Oh, just fine." I answered not much caring any more. He looked visibly relieved and nodded.

"Breakfast is served whenever you want it, but I thought you'd appreciate a bath first." If I didn't have as much common sense as to know not to, I would have jumped up and down right then.

"It is much appreciated." I returned instead.

"This way, then." He said, heading to a small door that I hadn't noticed before. Not that that was very difficult. He pushed on the silver coloured handle and an abundance of steam escaped the adjacent room. I could smell rose oil in the haze as well as other things such as herbs. I stepped in and gazed at the large stone tub that was almost an extension of the floor itself. It was filled almost to the top with clean warm water, a sight that made my heart jump. Assorted around the edges of the tub were small vials, glass bottles and wooden instruments. The vials and glass bottles I assumed contained scented oils and such; I could pretty much guess what the rest was for.

There was about two minutes of silence before:

"Legolas…?"

"Hmm…" He answered, seeming preoccupied with matters in his head.

"…You planning on watching?" He looked up rather confused.

"…Oh! Right, sorry…" With that he left in rather a hurry, his ears turning slightly strawberry.

It was a good hour and a half before I emerged, smelling and feeling better than I had in a long while. Gem was by my side in an instant, bustling about me, throwing open cupboards, pulling out combs from somewhere on her person. It was far more attention then I was used to. She was speaking, I was vaguely aware of that, but my peaceful state mingled with her thick Shire accent, the words seemed to weld into one long stream of soothing noise. She pulled me over to a chair situated in front of a large mirror, sat me down, and began to ruthlessly work out the knots in my hair, commenting on the general length, state, and overall health of it. She reached a larger knot somewhere near the tips, and started to furiously work it our, I absentmindedly wondered how much of my hair would be left after her lengthy assault. My head was jerked back as she finished and I whipped round to stop her, finally coming to my senses.

"Hey, wait…what are you doing?" I looked at her confused, she mirrored me.

"Why…I'm just sorting out your hair, milady." I sighed.

"Oh…carry on, then." I couldn't be bothered to try and do anything, and the last thing I felt physically, mentally or spiritually able to do was root through the knots in my hair. So I decided to freeload the hospitality I was being shown.

When she had finished, and my hair was suitably restrained in a tight braid, she flung open the door to a cupboard, containing rows upon rows of neatly hung gowns. One dark eyebrow shot up as she removed a light fuchsia dress, trimmed with lace. Her hair bobbed around her face as she beamed.

"Now, this would look just _lovely_ on you, don'cha think?" I stared at her in horror.

"_No._" I said with a note of finality. "Where are my old clothes, anyway?" Gem scrunched up her face.

"Oh, _those_. Well, you see, I sent them to be cleaned, then repaired." I could almost hear the unspoken '_then incinerated.'_ "They won't be back for a few days I'm afraid." Gem regarded me for a long minute. "You don't much like dresses and such, do you?"

"No."

"Ah, well, that's not a problem, we've got some nice, comfy tunics around here somewhere for you…" She trailed off, opening and closing random drawers until finally she retrieved two mossy green items of clothing and held them up triumphantly. She sidled over and handed them to me. "Oh, and also, might I suggest you wear a bodice on top of that as well?" I furrowed my brows.

"…why?"

"Oh, _well_, from what I've heard, you're one of those _adventuring_ types. If you're going to be running around, I doubt you'd want _those_ things bouncing around like crazy, now would we?" My mouth hung open.

"Ex-excuse me?" I asked, shocked.

"Well look at them, they're _huge_." She said, her voice tinged with innocence and cheerfulness as she retrieved a suede bodice of a light brown colour.

"I suppose…" I finished, barely above a whisper.

I regarded myself critically in the full-length mirror. Well, it was…different. A tight bodice was laced up at the front, hiding my chest (which Gem had gone to no ends to point out) to as much of a degree as it could. I didn't much like the green tunic and leggings, but I supposed they would have to do. For the time being, anyhow. I twisted the braid into the bun I was accustomed to, and headed for the door as Gem begun to bustle about, tidying the already spotless room.

The door opened with a faint creak, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I was greeted by two almost identical voices. I looked to the right and saw one golden head turned away from me, and the other golden head belonging to none other than the Prince himself. He hadn't seen me yet, and was continuing with his conversation.

"…She didn't tell me much to begin with, but she says she doesn't know why they're there or any details, but I think…" His gaze flicked past the other's shoulder for the briefest moment. He stopped. The other turned his head, his face breaking out into a boyish grin. They looked almost identical, save for the slight differences. Legolas was certainly a lot…prettier? The word fit. His features were more chiselled, more defined. The other had a slightly more oval face that had an unmistakable roguish quality to it.

"Hello there." The other said, his grin getting wider. "Didn't recognise you without dirt on your face." I glared at him, waiting for his grin to run out of face to use.

"Yuna." Legolas stepped between us, smiling nervously. "This is Firowen, Firowen, Yunalesca." I smirked.

"Oh, so _you're_ Firowen. Funny, with a name like _that_, I thought you'd be a woman." His smile didn't disappear like I'd hoped.

"Oh that's perfectly alright, when Legolas here told me of 'Yunalesca,' I thought he meant one of his _Dwarvish_ friends." The smile on my face fell instantly; replaced by a Look™ of pure shocked outrage. Legolas looked mortified. He looked to Firowen then me with his mouth open, searching for something to say to make the atmosphere lighter. To my own half-surprise, I found myself laughing. The sound broke through the tense air, dissipating all thoughts of Firowen's immanent bloody death. Legolas joined in nervously, subtly shoving Firowen down the hall to put as much distance between us as possible. He walked briskly up to me once our company had departed, throwing what could have been a wink in my direction.

"I like him." I stated, nodding my approval, Legolas opened his mouth to say something equally surprising back, then gave up and came out with:

"Why do I get the feeling that if I, or anyone else for that matter, made any kind of comparison between you and a Dwarf, I wouldn't live long enough to regret it?" I made a sound resembling 'eh…', and gave my oh-so-witty comeback.

"Not necessarily. He has a valid point. My name _does_ sound slightly Dwarvish if you pronounce it wrong and basically totally ignore the vowels and lack of accents." I shrugged. "Besides, _he's_ vaguely attractive." Success. His jaw dropped. "So, don't you have some royal business to attend to?" I didn't know what else to say.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I have to speak to my Adar." He added, as if to justify himself.

"About me?" I asked casually.

"What? No, why would you think that?"

"Well, you were just talking to Firowen about me."

"No I wasn--"

"Was." He was beaten

"Alright, I was, but only because he asked what happened. I have to speak to my Adar about why we were late back, namely, tell him of the situation in Fangorn." I could see brief apprehension flashing through his eyes before they returned to the normal, stoic blue. I couldn't help but wonder…

"Do you get on well? You and your father?" I was a natural probe, preferring to know everything about a situation before I assessed it. He looked confused for a moment.

"Yes, generally…why do you ask?"

"You're worried about your audience with him." I established, matter-of-factly.

"Well…I suppose I am, but that is only because I cannot help but be wary of what he will say to my 'excuse'." Hmm, I could see the rumours already. The Prince? Eloping with that freakishly clad woman? In the middle of Fangorn? How scandalous! There would no doubt be hoards of polished Elven ladies after my blood once the word got around that I had shared a horse with their Prince. I almost grinned at the thought. As for the King, I surmised that Legolas genuinely did get on with his father, and there was nothing of interest there. But I also wondered if he, like so many other sons, strived to be everything his father wanted. Somehow, I doubted my presence in the palace would improve that image.

"If it helps, you can tell him I made you do it. But then again, what a blow to your ego to be bested by a mere _female_." He cut off that line of conversation with a final note.

"Feel free to go about the palace and caves as you desire afterwards. Or even go into the city. Whatever you wish. If I survive, I should see you at dinner tonight." He made to leave, stopping and furrowing his brow as a long, burbling growl emitted from somewhere just above my abdomen. He gave me a look, somewhere between astonishment and morbid curiosity.

"Oh come _on_, get over it. I haven't eaten in, what, two? Three days?" He nodded carefully, his mouth still open slightly.

"I'm guessing you would rather eat something first?" I smiled in a silent conformation, retaining the ability to make an expression hold a weighty amount of sarcasm. "Very well, Firowen?" His gaze did not shift as Firowen peered round a nearby doorframe, managing to look guilty and innocent at the same time.

"Yes?" He asked, drawing the word out to twice its normal length.

"_Kindly_ escort the Lady to the kitchens. And Yuna, do not hesitate to deploy any method necessary if it is needed." With that he turned and left, leaving me wondering what in Arda he was talking about.

Not for long, though.

Firowen grinned once more and latched a hand on my shoulder as he approached. I looked at him, then the offending hand, then back up to him. He got the hint and pulled it away quickly, replacing his hands behind his back as he beckoned for me to follow him with his head.

"So." He started, not in the least bit phased by my outright rejection.

"You must have had very cruel parents." I said, not giving him a chance to say anything more.

"Well observed. Although I am at a loss, fair lady, to see how you managed such accurate judgement based on our short time together." I dually noted how he deftly managed to sneak '_fair lady_' into the sentence.

"Your name." I said simply. "What kind of loving family would name their dear son _Firowen_?"

"Alas, my darling mother wished for a girl. And she flatly refused to change my pre-chosen name upon my arrival into this world long ago." I had to raise an eyebrow at that.

"Oh? And what father wouldn't wish for a son to continue the family line?"

"Ah, well you see," Why, oh Valar, was I discussing the origins of his name with an egotistical, flirtatious, over-the-top imbecile? "The Prince had just been born two Winters previously, a ray of light in those times. When my mother found herself with child, I was instantly betrothed to the young prince. My mother would obviously wish for a beautiful daughter to arrive to be wed off as a Princess, you see."

"I do indeed." I said flatly. "Imagine her disappointment to go through all that and end up with _you_." He placed a hand across his chest in a pathetically serious manner.

"Your words wound me, my Lady."

"Good."

"Anyway, moving swiftly on." His swift recovery from the bruising of his soul almost brought a smile to my lips. "You, Yunalesca, intrigue me. Never before have I seen an Elf with your colouring. Or, for that matter, a female as _renown_ a fighter as you seem to be." '_Renown enough to kick your sorry ass._'

"Really, how interesting." My tone couldn't have been any flatter if I'd passed a steam roller over it twice then compared it to the likeness of the Noble Ladies' chests. I'd heard the same rant countless times before. People were constantly reminding me of how different I looked. I had a darker complexion than almost any other Elves I'd met, my skin taking on an almost bronze tone. My hair was obviously the greatest difference. Even Celeborn's hair was more platinum blonde than the silvery white sheen that mine held. Last of all, my eyes. Sparse among humans, indefinitely rare to Elvenkind. They branded me as different, mocking the fact that my hair was enough to set me aside. I hated vehemently standing out constantly, and I hated even further having this fact constantly being repeated to me by ignorant fools who knew nothing. But it seemed that was not the case.

"But what intrigues me even more was that interesting little sound you made that prompted my being here. Most women in your position would have paled to white and promptly fainted."

"Position?" I faked naïveté.

"Such unladylike manners. And in the presence of the Crown Prince of the Realm, no less." He shrugged, opening a door for me, despite my being fully able to undertake the task by myself. "But then again, you do not seem as affected as They once were." He made the capitals fully audible.

"They?" I ventured, dreading the answer. He shook his head.

"Perhaps some other time I shall relate to you the horrors of the Prince's traumatic past, but for now…" He pushed open another door and the smell of freshly baked bread filled my lungs. Fresh fruit and vegetables could be picked out throughout the inviting aroma, and I allowed myself to be led forward, eagerly anticipating my first decent meal in a long time.

I looked up to see a flushed serving maid spring forth from some random corner of the kitchens. She beamed and curtseyed prettily at Firowen.

"Welcome, milord, is there anything I can do for you?" He flashed her a blatantly flirtatious half-grin, and inclined his head towards me.

"For me, I'm afraid not, for the time being. However the Lady here is well in need of some nourishment, could you perhaps prepare a plate for her?"

"Certainly milord." With a curtsey and a flourish, she was gone, skirts riveting round behind her.

Time passed pleasantly. I was led to a table, ignoring the dull ache in my temples, and sat down. The smell of food directly below me alerted my stomach to the presence of food, and soon I was satisfying my hunger as best I could. Not caring about the Elf watching my every move with wide-eyes surprise.

"What?" I snapped, Looking™ as angrily as I could to where Firowen sat, opposite me, hand on his chin, head tilted slightly, observing me chew my way through portion after portion.

"Nothing, nothing, it's just that I don't believe I've even had the pleasure of witnessing an Elf-maid on a binge before." I put the apple I was currently eating down and glared steadily.

"_This_ is not bingeing. _This_ is eating to ensure my immediate and continued _survival_. _Look_ at me!" He did just that, trailing his eyes up and down my gaunt form. "My clothes are practically falling off me," I silenced with my expression the part of him that cried out to make some kinky comment on the last sentence. "It's only right for me to have enough energy to at least lift a sword."

"I suppose so, but…" He trailed off, chuckling to himself and waving a hand dismissivly. "Never mind." Great, now I was curious. But I couldn't let him know that. Thankfully, he finished his 'forgotten' sentence. "It's just…you must be one of the only females in this realm who _don't_ seem infatuated by the daily chore of keeping their figure trim."

"Yes, _well_, as I've had to explain to countless people before you, I'm not exactly what you'd call 'orthodox,' by many accounts."

"Oh, of course. I wasn't suggesting that you were." He winked. "I like a challenge." I almost choked on my food. Didn't this guy give up? I now understood Legolas' words. I thought of kicking him under the table, but then he'd probably think I was trying to play footsie or something equally stupid. Maybe I'd just verbally thrash him instead.

"Don't you ever give up? Isn't it obvious I really don't find you very attractive? But no, you don't strike me as the type with the intelligence to make such educated observations. Such as: You, my friend, could write everything you know about women on a fingernail." I said as callously as possible, he shrugged and maintained the 'sweet innocence' smile.

"No, you're right, I don't give up. You have me smitten. I only hope, my lady, that you shall be able to admit your affections towards me before too long." He sighed wistfully, seeming to enjoy my horrified look. "I doubt my heart shall be able to take the strain."

He was wearing me out. I'd never spoken to someone like him who flatly refused to get offended by anything I said. It was infuriating. But I was not giving up without a fight.

"Is that a conclusion, or simply the place where you got tired of 'thinking'?"

"The latter, _lirimaer._ I'm afraid you have me at my wit's end." _lovely one_.

"Don't worry, wisdom _eventually_ comes to all of us. Someday, it _might_ even be your turn." He winked again.

"Such words. They seem so much more meaningful from the mouth of a woman. I always assume most men who insult me are merely jealous." His crippling arrogance was almost too much.

"Really? How blindingly chauvinistic of you."

"Not at all. I always thought women should be obscene and not heard." I laughed. It was obvious now what he was doing. I had never encountered someone like him before. Everything in life seemed to be a joke to him. He flirted relentlessly, knowing that most of the women he inflicted his charms on were immune to him, knowing he meant everything in jest. That was exactly what he was doing to me. I'd never confronted someone who acted like he did around me, let alone be flirted with as heavily as he did. Most were either too intimidated, or just plain knew better.

"You know? The trouble with you is that you lack the power of conversation but not the power of speech."

"Sadly, yes." He made to continue, but thankfully the Valar intervened and a maid appeared and curtseyed low, interrupting.

"Milord Firowen?" His head whipped round, smile bright and cheery as Gem's voice.

"Yes, Tári, my dear?" She flushed. This was pathetic.

"Your father wishes to speak with you." I was half expecting her to say father, but not in that context. Firowen sighed dramatically.

"If I must." He rose from his seat, offering his hand, then quickly retracting it as I shot him a death glare. He resigned to bowing regally and promising me a continuation of our conversation at a later time. I told him he shouldn't bother if he valued his right to have children as well as his sanity. He winked again and was off, chatting to the maid shamelessly.

I had eaten my fill a while ago, my appetite leaving me as we begun to converse. The male, I had decided a long time ago, is a domestic animal which, if treated with firmness and kindness, can be trained to do most things. Unfortunately, Elven men didn't fall into that category. They were far more intelligent (a few more millennia would do that to even the simplest of Men), clean, romantic, and above all, held such a sense of pride that if there was ever anything more important then their ego around, they wanted it caught and shot immediately. Alright, so not all were like that. Although most of the younger ones were, especially the women. I'd always mused that when the centre of the universe was finally discovered, many of the prettier females would be crestfallen to find that they were not, in fact, it.

Firowen, however, infuriated me to no end.

But what infuriated me even more was the fact that I found it unmistakably endearing.

I left the kitchens, wandering aimlessly down the corridors. Now what could I do today? I had been in Mirkwood once previously, what did I do then…?

Of course. Gildor. I wondered if he was still around. It didn't matter, at least I would have something to do for the remainder of the day.

There were so many things I hadn't thought of before that I wondered about as I found my way out of the palace. How long had I been out for? Who had healed my wounds? Who undressed me? Why? What on earth was I doing in Mirkwood ('_Eryn Lasgalen'_ I mentally corrected myself. when Fangorn was in need? I convinced myself that the only reason I was doing this was so I could be in top condition to fight, also so I could get the reinforcements I needed to drive them out.

As I looked about at the walls, ceilings and floors around me, it occurred to me that I had never been in the palace before, and it was certainly not how I'd imagined it.

The entire thing was half carved straight from the mountains themselves. But instead of the rocky, uneven walls I'd been expecting, much like the walls of Moria, what I found was smooth, polished stone. The halls were lit in such a way that it did not seem gloomy or dark, simply dim. There were small windows that allowed shafts of light from far off, drilled for metres through the rock. Some rooms even had large skylights, bathing the floor in the golden glow of the day. The air was thin and cool, refreshing to the lungs. I was nearing an exit, I guessed. I could hear the far off chirping of birds and could smell the lush plants. But where was I? I scanned the hallway for identifying tapestries, carpets, anything, and came to one conclusion. I was standing directly in front of my bedroom door.

Damn.

But wait. I thought of Gildor, then of our last meeting. I told him of a sword I owned, a nameless sword, etched with runes of power, shining with an ethereal light. His eyes grew wide as a young elfling as I spoke. He greatly desired to see it, however I had not foreseen the need to take it with me on that particular trip. Perhaps another time?

I had forgotten about her when I travelled to Eryn Lasgalen, perhaps…

No, that was almost too much to hope that Legolas had taken her with me. But then again, he might have been smart enough to identify the contents of my pack as the small prized possessions I had, and brought them with him. But maybe, just maybe…

I pushed the door open, wondering if Gem was still bustling about. But no, she was gone. The scent of lavender hung lazily about the room, and for the first time I actually noticed how big it was. There was a large double bed to the left, drapes around the top and an embroidered throw over the blankets. To the right was an ornate wardrobe, a smaller cupboard to its left, and finally a chest. The door to the adjoining bathroom came next, followed by the full-length mirror and possibly one of the most comfortable chairs I'd sat on. _'Not nearly as comfortable as those in Elrond's study…_' the thought flicked through my mind. The curtains were pulled back, letting the thin, silken netting flutter in the wind.

'_Wind?_'

I took a step forward, pulling the material back and gasping as I realised what was behind. The door to the grand balcony was open, and over the fencing, twined with vines, was a sight that would burn into my memory forever.

It was like a hollow cylinder in the centre of the mountain. Balconies from around the palace jutted out into the space, seeming to grow from the rock surface. Birds circled overhead the immense skylight, some diving down to wonder amongst the vines snaking their way up over the rocks.

The sun had not risen to the top of the sky yet, and as a result, only a few rays peaked over the top, casting a haunting glow on one side of the single, round wall. Below, the ground was dotted with plants, a design only visible from above fit for any high palace garden.

Vibrant colours mingled with softer pastels, which in turn contrasted with the deep and pale greens. It was breathtaking, to say the least, as well as highly unexpected. The immense beauty of the area was almost unreal. But, unlike Caras Galadhon, it was not the kind of priceless beauty you feared to touch. This was more earthy, more rooted in nature.

Images of dancing couples swirling beneath a twilit sky swam through my mind. There were torches at intervals along the various pathways that rounded through the grounds, and it occurred to me that it must be even lovelier with Eärendil shining down, luminating the grounds with starlight.

I shook such thoughts from my head and concentrated on finding Luccrecía.

Heading back inside, I scanned the room for any possible places. All I saw was an unmarked chest in one corner, unlocked. It had been opened recently after lying neglected for a long time, that much was obvious from the thin layer of dust. I knelt beside it and lifted the lid, careful not to disturb the dust.

I grinned. Before me was everything I cared about that was in my possession, Luccrecía sat snugly on the top. I only kept a few prized possessions, my sword being the most prized of all. In the chest lay a single outfit I had paid good money for in some obscure shop in Minas Tirth. As well as that, a few odds and ends I was loathe to leave behind. Among these was a plain mithril ring. It didn't mean anything, it wasn't special, it had no odd markings or glowing chevrons, it was just a plain, simple band. I didn't know why I liked it so much, or how, in fact, it had come into my possession. I had it, and it wasn't going anywhere as far as I was concerned.

Grabbing Luccrecía, I shut the case just as carefully and exited my designated room. Continuing down the hall as if I knew exactly where I was going.

It wasn't long before I heard light footsteps coming down the corridor towards me. To my surprise, Legolas, or rather, upon closer inspection, Thranduil rounded the corner, flanked by two advisors. He didn't even look at me, so I did him the same favour as I passed, throwing a fleeting smile at one of the men behind him as their gaze met with mine. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head as I continued down, but I did what I usually did in the presence of those the rest of the world would consider 'my betters' and completely and utterly ignored the label and everything that came with it as I strode past.

But as I remembered my earlier mistake, one word crossed my mind. '_Nametags…_'

She stood out form anyone else Thranduil would have expected coming towards him. Strangely enough, it was as if he wasn't even there as she paced superciliously past. At the least he would have predicted she nod her head or make some kind of respectful acknowledgement towards him. Perhaps she was the one his son had spoken of? Yes, it had to be her. Her life in the uncivilised Entwood must have dissipated any manners or etiquette to speak of.

Even the highest of Elves, even his son the Prince would have made some kind of courteous recognition of his status. But she…she seemed to think she was better than all of them. Why his son had spoken so highly of an obviously rude, uncouth, uncultured woman was beyond him.

"Incredible, the craftsmanship on the blade is unmatched by any I have seen before. Beautiful. And these markings…" The man turned the sword round with practised professionalism, tracing the faint outline of the chevrons with a slightly callused yet pale-skinned and flawless finger. "Truly this is an amazing weapon, if a little heavy and awkward to be put to good use. I suspect it is more of a decorative item?" He handed the sword back to the woman, her darker skin contrasting with his.

"You are mistaken, Gildor" She replied, gripping the handle affectionately. "This is no ordinary blade, she is heavy and practically useless because you hold her." A blonde eyebrow raised in challenge. "Nothing against your skill, of course, but I have found that I can use her with ease, almost effortlessly, and yet she does not agree with anyone else."

"Interesting." He stroked his chin, eyes roaming the length of the blade." I have heard of a technique used to make a certain weapon usable only to particular bloodline or person…but I would have personally thought such a thing impossible. Do you recall how you got it?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I suspect my mother, but she was no fighter…"

"Strange that it bends to your will and no one else's, then. I shall have to think on this. But I shall say that you are indeed in luck to own such a sword, its value must be phenomenal. The craftsman must have been one of the best to have walked this earth."

"Is there no more you can tell me of it?"

"Sadly, no. Come back in a few weeks, maybe after the tournament, then I shall tell you anything I have found. Until then, Yunalesca." He nodded once, a half smile revealing faint lines of age on his face.

"Goodbye, Gildor." The woman turned and left, silver hair turning white as the sun's rays hit it. Once she was a good distance through the town, on her way back to the palace, one thought appeared unbidden. '_Tournament?_'

Gildor had indeed been intrigued by Luccrecía, I could see the look of wonder on his face as he inspected the blade, turning it over in his hands, swiping experimentally. I wouldn't have let anybody else handle her as freely as he did, but then, I trusted him. I trusted him like I trusted a select few individuals. He was one of those people who saw no point in being dishonest, so he just carried on being one of life's truly good people. I knew he respected me the same way I respected him, so I was comfortable letting him attempt to use the unusable sword.

I thought of this and many things as I, once again, strode pointlessly down the halls of the palace. Although, this time, I had a kind of purpose. I was searching for some form of library, something like Elrond's vast encyclopaedia of Lore contained in a magnificent room in Rivendell. I doubted I would find something of the same calibre amongst the Wood Elves, but it was worth a try. Reading had always relaxed me, it didn't matter what it was. Letting my mind wonder had never appealed to me; I hated being off guard. But in Elrond's library, there was no reason to be _on_ guard, so I was free to let my mind do whatever it wished.

I could make out the word 'library' in neatly carved Tengwar Sindarin on the dark wood door of what I assumed was, in fact, the library. The door creaked as I pushed it open, like all doors seemed to in this place. Inside, the first thing that hit me was the strong odour of dust and the dim lighting. The only source of light seemed to be emanating from the gently flickering candelabras and a single candle that poked out from above a pile of books that lay stacked haphazardly on a table. The sound of a page turning drew my attention towards it. There, sitting, book set firmly between her elbows, was an elf woman. Her golden hair cascaded down one shoulder; small, well-defined lips pursed together in concentration as her crystal blue eyes scanned the page. Her dark white gown was simple, yet elegant, the material easily indicating her as a higher-classed citizen.

I took a step closer.

She remained silent. Either she didn't see me -- which I doubted seeing that I was definitely close enough and in her view -- or she chose to ignore me. I guessed the latter.

I took another step, purposely allowing my footsteps to be heard. This time, her head shot up, one hand covering a feminine gasp.

"Oh, oh I…I'm sorry." She started, stammering slightly. "I…I didn't hear you come in." She seemed to find her voice again and smiled hesitantly at me.

"That's alright. Am I allowed to be in here?" I didn't really care, but on this occasion I didn't want to be trespassing on my first day of welcome.

"Oh, of course, yes. Whenever you like, Lady…"

"Yunalesca."

"Right, Lady Yunalesca." She seemed to be testing my name on her tongue.

"Call me Yuna, I'm no Lady. I'm only here because the Prince made me come." Her eyes widened slightly with what I assumed was recollection.

"Oh, now I remember. Legolas told me about you when he came back yesterday. Welcome to Eryn Lasgalen." She said pleasantly, beaming. Well this was certainly refreshing. I considered for a minute that she might be Nólad's sister, but no. They looked nothing like each other.

"Th…thank you…" I managed, my brow furrowing slightly as I regarded her. Just like Nólad, she had the same blameless, accepting and entirely sincere look in her deep cerulean eyes.

"Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Narin." She bobbed once in her gown in what I assumed was some sort of informal curtsey. I merely nodded.

"So, are you a noble's daughter or something?" I asked, not unkindly or dismissive, but simply curiously. She giggled, apparently at some private joke.

"Yes…something like that." She smiled and motioned towards a chair not far from where she was. After she sat in her original seat, I moved towards the other chair and sat down, feeling slightly surprised at how comfortable it was.

"Are you in here a lot?" I was never good at small talk, but she didn't seem to mind. On top of that, she seemed ecstatic at my informality.

"Oh yes, I love it here." She said wistfully, her eyes resting on the bookshelves. "It's so quiet and far from anything going on in the palace. I love just to sit here and let my mind wonder in the stories of old…" Now _that_ surprised me. "But listen to me, I sound like a child!" She must have seen the smile work its way onto my face.

"No, no. It's just…" I searched for the right word. "…_refreshing_ to meet someone like you." She cocked her head.

"How so?"

"Well, firstly, most women I meet either gawk at me or comment on my choice of lifestyle."

"That's horrible." She stated. "Why would they do that? That's just rude."

"Well look at me. Don't tell me you don't think I'm at least a _little_ odd."

"I…um…a little, I suppose. But I'd never have outright _said_ it. And certainly not in a rude way. What…why are you looking at me like that? I-I didn't mean--"

"Relax, I just think it's nice to meet someone whose personality hasn't been badly affected by their high-class upbringing."

"Thank you…" She was clearly unused to hearing the truth. "And…I'm glad to meet someone who doesn't care about my title." It was like _I_ was a breath of fresh air to _her_. So…I hear you're a warrior…what's it like? To have that kind of freedom?"

"Why don't you ask one of the fighters from the palace? Why am I so special?"

"Well, they're not as free as you are. No matter who they are they always have to follow orders from somebody. You…Legolas told me you live in Fangorn? How did that happen?" Her eyes were wide with anticipation.

"To tell the truth, I don't really remember. My childhood is…not something I want to recall." It was such a cliché, I knew, but it was the truth. What little I could remember wasn't pleasant, and I had no desire to dig up anything more.

"Wow…" She was now staring at me with an expression of mixed awe and fascination. "You're just like the heroes I always read about. I'm sorry if I'm too forward, it's just that you're the only female warrior I've met who actually is any good. I think that some of them in Eryn Lasgalen are fooling themselves thinking they could be fighters. Most of the men aren't sexist, but I have to agree with them when they say that half the women who think they can fight don't know one end of a sword from the other."

"And you? Don't you feel the urge to be rebellious?" I asked jokingly.

"Oh no. I know I wouldn't be any good. And besides, I doubt my father would allow it. Even so…I wish more of the stories I read were about women who fought in the great battles. Oh great, now I sound like I'm a raving feminist." I laughed.

"Don't worry. How about I tell you the tale of one of the many fights I've been in?" She smiled and nodded, like an elfling before a lore master. I felt strangely old as the memories of times long past filled my senses. I could smell the fire's embers as villages burnt, I could see the river of torches as the Uruk-Hai approached the wall, I could hear the cries of slain comrades, I could feel the scars riddled across my body freshly cut, blood pouring down. I couldn't tell her of half the things I'd seen. I couldn't describe to her the feeling of utter fear, loss, and worthlessness when a companion fell in battle.

I'd seen far too much to be considered a lady. I'd ended so many lives without a second thought. Orc, warg, Uruk-Hai, Humans whom just happened to be on the opposite side…I wasn't fit to be called a lady by any standards. I was one of life's true exceptions. I wasn't meant to have friends, fall in love, settle down or have a family. In the end I'd only bring them pain, or cause myself pain by loosing them. That was my philosophy, it was my mantra to convince myself that I was always doing the right thing.

Now, a story? Something exciting yet realistic, heroic yet not self-serving…

"How about the battle in Helm's Deep through the eyes of the only woman on the walls?"

A.N. Reviews:

Inatarille: Thankies. Sorry for not answering in the previous chapter, but when I was doing the reviews yours weren't up yet. About Yuna and Aragorn…yeah…um…we kinds forgot to put this big (very important) bit in about that before. Hopefully in either the next chapter or the one after we'll sort that out by putting it in a flashback or something. And you're right; it really wasn't very pleasant. Hoo, just checked out your profile ;) Can I just say I love your music sense? And you are officially the 15th person to put us on your faves. Have a cookie. No, wait, have two because you like good music.

Lilena: Hehe. Yep, we will explain about Cer soon, she's gonna (probably talk to him in the next chapter).

I Get Stalked By Snowmen: Cer isn't just some random guy, he actually is part of the plot (well, so are the rest of the characters, but there you go) and we'll elaborate on his character a bit more in coming chappies.

J-squeegy-tikiman: Congratulations, you've made me blush. The oh-so-common personality change will possibly happen, but not in the way you think, and it won't be like the rest of these hate-which-becomes-love-because-what-the-world-needs-now-is-love-sweet-love ficlets where this perfect-yet-icy-hearted character suddenly becomes this loving, warm character who everyone loves. It's more of a…oh just read. I'm regretting writing that now…

jeffiner1127: You see, most people say "OOOH! CLIFHANGER! SQEEE!" But not you, you've seen past our pathetic cover-up for laziness. When we cut it off, it's usually because we can't be pissed to write any more…

Melia: Here you go, hun.

Plumsy321: Bugs? Where? Grabs bug spray Not just yet, though soon, I promise, soon.

Sweet-legolas: Why is the 1st person thing bad? We had already written this chapter in 1st person, so…could you tell us exactly what you didn't like about the way it's done so we can change it? Thanks hun. Oh, for a good description of a Mary-Sue, go here: "www.imladris.nu/marysues.html" and learn. As for this story not being a Mary-Sue, people who say that are just being nice. This _is_ a Mary-Sue. A completely shameless self-insert of our combined personalities. I think hardly any Legomances can say that they're not a Mary-Sue…

Ranting Fool: You can never beat us. NEVER! This is a Legomance, and as such we have the full support of our raging army of fangirls to review us as much as they want. Those corsets are as good as ours…cackles

Afowe Utina'vara: K then, I'm sure we're not that gripping, but there you go.


	23. Practice

A.N. Sorry it's a bit late, we've been…otherwise engaged with things that you don't care about. Good new is (or bad news, depending) we have pictures up on our site (yes, we have one, it's just not that finished yet…) linked on our profile. I seriously had to _force_ myself to write this, and even then, only when I was _really_ bored. Sorry for the total lack of quality, although it _is_ like some kind of uber-long chapter 16-style back-to-school special…

****

READ: This is something of an introduction chapter. It's just a space-filler to develop characters a bit and get some important events out of the way. We were gonna have the bit at the very end a little while later, but decided it fit in a little better if we did it now. In future, if we haven't updated in more than a week, check our bio to see if I've put a little note at the bottom. If I haven't, we'll update soon. Promise! *shouts of "about bloody time" from the back* 

__

"…You're cynical and beautiful

You always make a scene

You're monochrome delirious

You're nothing that you seem

I'm drowning in your vanity

Your laugh is a disease

You're dirty and you're sweet

You know you're everything to me…

…Tear down your defences

'Til there's nothing there but me

You're angry when you're beautiful

Your love is such a tease

I'm drowning in your dizzy noise

I wanna feel you scream…"

The Goo Goo Dolls ~ Dizzy

Chapter 21: Practice

Day Seven; I awoke surrounded by the plush quilts of my bed feeling better than I'd felt since my arrival. It had been a long time since I'd needed to sleep every evening, and I was getting the sinking feeling that Legolas had been disturbingly right about my condition. He noticed that I slept with my eyes closed on the journey here, and had commented on it. I told him I preferred it to the traditional Elven way of sleeping, and whenever I could I closed my eyes like a human. In truth, I only did it when I was sure I was safe. With the Prince, I felt safe. I knew for a fact that he would never betray or double-cross me. He was one of life's true, good people. He would never willingly do anything he thought would hurt anyone he loved or cared about. He told me he considered me a friend, so I guessed he wouldn't hand me over to the dark forces any time soon. But it _was_ odd, the way I almost _had_ to sleep with my eyes closed. Elves rarely did so, and only through great exhaustion, mentally and physically.

I didn't _feel_ drained in the slightest during the day, but at night I couldn't keep my eyes open. I closed the matter saying it was a human thing. Narin, the library girl, had given me strict orders to sleep as soon as I felt tired, proclaiming that she was the one Legolas had called in to heal me. I was certainly surprised to find that she had been the one to tend to my wounds when I arrived, seeing as she failed to recognise me when I first met her. Apparently the lighting was terrible when she'd had to heal me, although I suspected she didn't recognise me without dirt crusting over my face.

I found it mildly odd that someone whom I'd thought was nothing more than a girl was a healer. And a good one too, if Legolas was anything to go by. I took back my immediate judgement on her and decided that anyone who could face dealing with poisoned Orc scimitars in the heat of battle could have my respect. I found the more time I spent with her, the more that I grew to like her. She was intelligent, yet naïve, beautiful, yet oblivious to that fact. It saddened me a little to hear her talk of others as if they looked down on her. She seemed to be under the illusion that she was unattractive and useless. When I told her what I thought, she blushed and said I was merely saying so to make her feel better. I was never good at accepting compliments myself, but the main reason for that was because they were very rarely directed towards me.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my right hand and looked about lazily. Gem had been and gone, leaving the curtains gaping open to ensure I woke up early. She was, apparently, one of the main handmaids for this wing of the palace. I was surprised to learn that in the wing receded most of the elder sons and daughters of nobles and others whom had earned a home in the palace. Including the King's elusive offspring. He apparently had a daughter, as I'd heard references to 'the princess,' but she had not yet shown herself. As well as Legolas, there was another, younger brother whom I guessed was something of a troublemaker, judging by the constant angry, shocked or even in some cases admiring mentions of his name.

All in all, I surmised as I dressed, I was enjoying my little stay in luxury. Of course it was only temporary, I would leave in…maybe two, three weeks? I'd just let things play themselves out as I'd always done, and see what happened.

I stepped out the door, wondering what I could do to pass the time today. There had to be some kind of practice yard or something around somewhere, but no one wanted to tell me where. Whenever I asked Narin or anyone else I saw, they would just say I shouldn't think about training if I was still unwell. Well, I'd prove them wrong, selfish little--

"Yuna! How _lovely_ to see you." Oh _God_.

"Good Morning, Firowen." He was just coming down the hall from his room when I left the safety of my doorway. And there he was, jaunty grin plastered on his face as he sauntered towards me. "Where are you going?"

"I'm off to the practice courts with Legolas. You?" He said with a forced cheerfulness.

"I think I'll come with you." I waited for the objection. It didn't come.  
  
"Suit yourself. I think the twins are down there as well." I obediently followed him, making sure he didn't suddenly remember why I wasn't supposed to be exerting myself. We made idle conversation on the way through a maze of corridors that seemed completely foreign to my eyes. I heard the clashing of swords and felt my lips twitch upwards. Firowen must have seen it, for he commented a second later. "Eager to get a sword in your hand again? From what I've heard you're quite the fighter, I'd love to see with my own eyes." He winked. I rolled my eyes, having previously got used to his odd behaviour habits more formally known as the Dirty Old Man routine.

"Sure, I'll beat you into a bloody pulp if you really want me to, but I can't see how that would be an attractive prospect." He opened his mouth to retort, mirth glistening in his eyes as I realised my mistake. "Don't," I put my hand up to silence him, not even looking in his direction to know what he was thinking. He looked sickeningly innocent.

"What ever do you mean?"

"Forget it." I finished as he pushed open a set of double doors. None of the elves ruthlessly swiping at their sparring partners with daggers paid any attention to our arrival. As I was led around the large room, I observed the fighter's techniques with a highly critical eye. One had weak wrists, one with a stance that someone half his age would scoff at, one was just a disaster, easily loosing to his partner. As they stopped for a quick rest, I could see that they were, in fact, the twins. Celoril seeming pleased with his victory, while Nólad looked significantly humble as he looked at the other warriors in awe.

I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the younger. It was obvious he admired his brother, older by a matter of minutes. Apparently, Nólad had only just survived the birth, and had always been the weaker of the two. Celoril was a born fighter, I could see that from the way he moved, his walk, his confidence. So much like Legolas or Firowen. I didn't even think Nólad knew how to hold a sword, let alone that he trained with the others. He had strength in him, but his technique was definitely a work in progress. I made a mental note to talk to him later.

"Ready to be beaten?" A self-assured, almost mocking tone that I thought I'd never hear from the prince of the Greenwood drifted towards my ears. I looked over to where Firowen stood, smiling ironically at a grinning Legolas.

"Now that's hardly fair, I've already had one person say that to me today." He inclined his head towards me. I was beginning to wish I'd had the foresight to bring my sword, something one generally required during practice.

"So has Narin finally deemed you well enough to train?" I pondered for a long minute before answering carefully:

  
"Yes." He didn't believe me, but I was here now. "So what are you two going to do? Dagger fighting like the rest of these oblivious imbeciles?"

"_Archery_, as a matter of fact."

"Archery? Bah, that's no way to fight."

"I'll have you know it requires a great amount of skill to master the art." Legolas defended his renown ability.

"Think of it like this: which is more cowardly? Hiding behind a flank of soldiers as you shoot down your enemies from a distance, or getting up close and _very_ personal as you rip them to shreds in close combat?"

"Well obviously--"

"You're only saying that because of your utter incompetence in that area." Firowen finished nicely. I paused, he was right.

"Believe what you like, as for me, I have better things to do then stand and argue with two _men_ who I'm glad to see are not letting their education get in the way of their stupidity." With that I turned and left, wandering in search of someone to spar with.

~*~

"Incredible, the way she made the word '_men'_ alone an insult." Legolas observed after a while, contemplating what had just transpired.

"I'm confused." Firowen stated, turning to his friend. "Did we win that or did she?"

"She had the last word, so I'd guess her."

"But that was only because she couldn't think up any other way to come back after what I said."

"True…"

"Do you think we should ask her?"

"Of course not. That would imply we didn't know."

"But we don't."

"Yes, but--"

"So surely if we don't know, we should ask her." Legolas took a breath to answer, but stopped and exhaled.

"Just forget it. Come on, we have work to do."

"See? You're doing it too. You can't think of anything to say, so you're doing the next logical thing, fleeing the situation just like she did."

"Shut up."

"See?"

"Just shut up." A long pause as the two headed to the archery courts.

"So _did_ we win?"

"No."

~*~

They had to have some kind of weapons storage around here somewhere, I wasn't about to go all the way back to my room to get my sword, so I had decided to try and borrow one of the palace's. Better yet, the place seemed deserted, only a few elves remained, and I wasn't about to ask any of them. There was no way I was resorting to finding Legolas and Firowen, and Nólad seemed to have disappeared entirely. I sighed and sank into a nearby bench, relishing the absence of a head rush.

A shadow exited one of the many practice rooms into the corridor that ran through the entire area that was previously unknown to me, walking at a brisk pace, though not seeming to be in any hurry. I looked up and recognition hit me as the brown curls and large build headed my way.

"Cer?" I tried; it was something along those lines in any case. He stopped and looked at me, his face expressionless for the most part. I suddenly felt awkward. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's anywhere around here I could maybe borrow a weapon for a while? Just to train with?" The ghost of a smile crossed his thin lips.

"I'm on my way now." His voice struck me as the oddest thing yet. It was strangely deep, and did not go in any way, shape or form with his pointed ears. It had a strange raspy quality, and although the accent was the same as any of the other resident's of the Wood, his voice reminded me roughly of Aragorn's. He seemed almost self-conscious at this fact, so I smiled at him to ease his discomfort somewhat.

"Great, mind if I tag along?" I sounded like a child; but then again, Cer unnerved me with his cool as ice demeanour. Usually I was in his position.

"Not at all." He certainly _was_ a man of very few words, I decided as I followed him down the hall. I almost hit myself when he turned into the door directly after the ones I'd already searched. It so happened that if I had persevered for another six seconds or so I would have found the armoury. Cheerfully ignoring this fact, I turned my attention to the rows upon rows of longbows, daggers of all shapes and sizes, short bows, short swords, and finally long swords.

I ran my fingers over the cool metal of a hilt, feeling the tiny ridges and dents. I closed my fingers around the handgrip, drawing it out and admiring the blade. About three feet long, light yet with a certain weight to it, obviously requiring a good deal of strength to wield effectively. It would have to do.

"That's Legolas' sword." Cer said. There was a strange tone to his voice, he wasn't accusing, more challenging, with a hint of playfulness.

"Good." The ghost of a smile again. I slashed the air a few times, experimentally. It reminded me of my own sword in a strange sort of way. I grinned at him as I took the sheathe from it's place on the shelf and strapped it around my waist. There was silence for a while. I decided to take the opportunity to ask him a nagging question at the back of my mind. "You…you're a half-elf aren't you?"

"What of it?" Whatever ground I'd made during my short time with him was instantly reclaimed. A defensive mask shot up, his eyes the usual stony blue, his expression passive. I held up my hands to indicate I meant no offence.

  
"Nothing. I'm…half-human too." His mask fell, brows knitting together. "My father. He was from Gondor. Or, so I remember…It's been a long time."

"My…my mother was a human. I never even knew her."

"Why so defensive? There's nothing _wrong_ with what you are. It's not like you could help it."

"You don't understand." He wasn't even trying to minimise his words as his thick, unelven voice filled the room. "When the wood was under seige and filled with darkness, the people weren't as accepting of the outside world as they are now. Some were scared, some even despised the world around Mirkwood, they blamed it for what was going on. Of course no one outright objected to my being here. No one would be that against it, especially with my father's position. But it's always there, the silent disapproval, the narrow-mindedness, the intolerance." It explained so much. He didn't talk because he was embarrassed of his voice. He never drew attention to himself, because the way he looked did that enough already.

"I _do_ understand. But no, I don't pity you. I suspect that's the last thing you want, someone else's pity. You have your pride, after all. And I still stand by what I said."

"…Thank you. Legolas was right about you." He said cryptically after a while. I chose not to comment, rather to hassle the aforementioned about it later.

"So." I started, easily changing the subject. "Do you have somewhere to be, or do you have time for a spar?" Realisation dawned on him.

"No, I'm already late for something, I think." He walked briskly to where I was and pulled out a sheathed sword, similar to the one I held, but larger. He stopped at the doorway and tuned his head. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I'll…see you again some other time?" He asked, the potentially flirtatious suggestion glowing with pure innocence.

"Maybe." He was gone in a flash, not before bestowing me with one of his rare smiles. Great. Now whom would I fight with?

I wandered blindly down the halls, princely sword in hand, until I felt the cool air rushing in from the outdoors. A few doors ahead, was a small courtyard used for archery practice. There was a row of targets, about ten or so, and marked distances on the earth. I guessed it was fairly private, as a troop couldn't hope to get anything done in such close quarters. Ah, yes, and guess who was there?

"Well look who's decided to turn up, Legolas, looks like she didn't have anything better to do after all."

"Do shut up." Remembering in a flash who's sword I carried, I shifted so it was out of view. "After _finally_ locating a sword and having a soul-bearing chat with Cer, I find that I now have no one to train with." Firowen opened his mouth. I closed it with: "Whatever it is, no."

"Wait, you _talked_ with Cer? As in he said more than a sentence to you?"

"Yes. Why? Is that so astonishing?"

"Well…no, but he just doesn't generally talk to people he doesn't know that well unless he has to."

"Well…I'm not exactly like everyone else he's met, am I? I have one exception, and that's that I _understand_ him like no one else can." Legolas caught on immediately, Firowen just looked confused, bless him.

"So." Firowen cut in expertly, changing the subject with a flourish. "What brings your lovely self here?"

"Well there's nothing _else_ for me to do, is there?" I replied sharply. "Come on, this can't be _all_ you do every day, can it?" Legolas looked to Firowen, silently willing him to keep his mouth shut. It didn't work.

"Well of course not, we just have to work _extra_ hard to get into shape for the upcoming tourna-- ow!"

"Oh, dreadfully sorry, didn't look where I was poking this thing." Legolas said through clenched teeth, his bow prodding into Firowen's side.

"Don't even try it." I snapped cheerfully, if such a thing was indeed possible. I had just recalled Gildor's earlier mention of a tournament, and was eager to find out what the hell he was talking about. "Now, you were saying? Something about a tournament…?" I looked pointedly at Firowen, Legolas interrupted.

"I didn't want you to find out because…" I waited patiently for an explanation. "I didn't want to keep you here any longer than was necessary. You seemed so set at going back as soon as possible, and I knew if you found out about it, you'd want to stay for it, so…"

  
"You decided to withhold the information so you could get rid of me as soon as possible?" I said merrily.

"No!" He said rather quickly. "No, it's not that, it's just…"

"Tell me what you're talking about first, and _then_ I'll decide whether or not to be angry."

"Well, where to start…It's not really much of an ordinary archery tournament as such, more of a test of strength, endurance, speed, accuracy and above all, skill. There are twelve very different events, including archery." He smirked at my groan. The bastard. "And whoever does the best in the previous event, goes forward to the next and so on, until a winner is chosen."

"And for the past, hmm, how long? The winner has been none other than the Prince himself." Said Firowen, coming up behind Legolas and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"Really?" I arched a brow. "And when exactly _is_ this to be held?"  
  
"Used to be once a _yén_, but now they're held every twelve human years, so Men have a chance to compete more than once. It starts officially in about a week, and it goes on for about a month afterwards."  
  
"Who is allowed to enter?"

  
"Anyone of any race who is able to handle a sword as long as they pass the preliminary round, also counted as the first event."

"Which is…?" I felt a strange sense of nervousness.

"Archery."  
  
"What? Archery! That's just plain prejudice! You vapid Wood Elves just want one of your own to win, that's the only reason why you have, for some _strange_ reason, put your _speciality_ as the entry round!" I fumed.

"Yes, exactly." Grinned Firowen. "Just be glad it's not the final."

"That would be another reason why I neglected to tell you. If you know the bow as well as you say you do, you wouldn't get past the first round."

"…Really?" I said venomously.

"No, I didn't mean--" He panicked.

"Is that what you think? Well if that _is_ what you think, I'll just have to prove you wrong, won't I?" I was glaring full force now, and had steadily closed the gap between the Evil Prince and myself, my head tilted upwards slightly.

"Um…"

"Where do I sign up?"

"It's not that simple. It's already too late, and besides you have to--"

"No it's not, you're the bloody _Prince_. Make an _exception_."

"But I--"

"Come on, for me?" I mock-fluttered my eyelashes, and smiled maliciously.

"Of course he'll do it. Won't you Legolas?" Now Firowen was fluttering his eyelashes. I suppressed a shudder. Legolas caved in.

"Alright, fine. But are you sure you don't mind leaving a little late?"

"Fangorn can survive a few more weeks without me. Just like you said, right?"

"…. Right. I'll see what I can do."

"Good." I backed off to give him room to breathe. I think Firowen giggled, but it might have been my imagination. At least…I hoped it was…

"So, now that that's over and done with, want to have a couple of practice shots?" He said, inclining his head to the targets.

"Hmm…" I mocked deep thought. "How can I say this without sounding like the antisocial, hostile, misanthropic bitch I am? No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've no desire to humiliate myself with my pathetic archery skills in front of the two of you who will no doubt never let me forget about my lack of expertise in the subject."

"She's got us there." Firowen gave up.

"You're going to have to practice a little at least if you want any hope of getting through the first round." Legolas persevered.

"Maybe later." I gave a wry smile. "Maybe when there's no one around to see me fail miserably."

~*~

Day thirteen; I was woken by Gem as the curtains flew open. She didn't notice, and left the room in a flurry of skirts and assorted dusters. I lay for a few moments longer, and when my body thoroughly refused to rest further, I rose, dressed, and left for the training halls.

Celoril, Firowen and two other Random Elves were already shooting. They didn't seem to have moved since the previous night, although that would be absurd….

Cheerfully ignoring this, I picked up Legolas' sword and continued my search for a training dummy. The shuffling of feet and the air-splitting swish of a sword brought my attention to a rather large side room. There weren't many people around, besides one or two random elves I guessed were just thrown in for background effect. In the room was none other than Nólad, his feet uncertainly shuffling as he swung his sword. The swell of pity returned.

His back was to me, and so engrossed was he in his practice that he didn't hear me walk directly behind him and raise my sword to deflect a swing before the metallic clang resounded through the room. He inhaled sharply, retracting his blade and backing off slightly. He made to apologise, I guessed by the look on his face, but I silenced him with a finger.

"You're strong, but it's a shame you had such a bad teacher. You've got a lot of potential, and with some half decent technique, you wouldn't be too bad." His cheeks coloured slightly. Realisation hit me suddenly. "Why are you doing this?"

"D-doing what?" He seemed embarrassed at himself.

"You're a healer, and I don't see Narin down here brandishing a weapon. Why do you feel you have to be like everyone else?" I paused for thoughtful effect. "Why do you feel you have to be like your brother?"

"I…It's not that. It's just…I always wanted to be able to fight. But it turned out my talent lay elsewhere. I envied Celoril and the others so much at times because they were able to be warriors like most if not all of the other men. Did you know I'm one of two, _two_, male healers in the palace." He laughed ironically. This was the most open I'd ever seen him. He was actually showing resentment. Though it was obvious he loved his brother as much as could be expected, there was still that longing, the feeling of mediocrity. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this. It's not as if you need to hear my problems."

"No, no. Go on. I'm interested now."

"Well…that was pretty much it." He said sheepishly.

"You like Narin, don't you?" I said randomly, he shrugged.

"Of course, she's practically my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without her." I smiled, he back-peddled, fast. "N-not like that, though! I mean, she's pretty and everything, but I just…"

"Don't see her in that way…?" I said encouragingly. He nodded.

"Besides, she likes someone else." He said off-handily, the suddenly realising a mistake. "Oh, wait. Forget I said that."

"Who?"

"No-one."

"Fine. I'll drag it out of her eventually." I said challengingly. Why was I becoming so involved in the politics of Eryn Lasgalen's upper social web? "Listen. As long as you're here, will _you_ be my sparring partner?"

"I don't know about that. I'm really not very good, as you can tell."

"Nonsense." I said, already taking position. "I can teach you little things as we go along, and I can remind myself of the basics."  
  
"…Okay then, if you're sure." I corrected him on his tight stance and told him to attack me. I parried the blow, forced his sword around, and grabbed his other arm, pinning it behind his back.

"Rule number one. Don't do that." I released him, noting his slightly improved stance as he prepared again. "Good. Now I'll attack you. Don't look so apprehensive, I've no designs on removing that little blonde head of yours." And so I attacked. Within seconds my blade was pressed against his neck. I released him again, dispensing my second piece of advice. "Rule number two: Never, _ever_ leave any part of you open, especially not your neck, torso, or any other place you don't want hacked off." He nodded, absorbing the information.

I saw improvement in every attack, every block, every improvised combo he pulled off. I almost beamed with pride. I'd never had a student before for anything, and to see him avidly hanging on my every word and taking in the information like an over-eager schoolboy made me strangely happy.

"Rule number nine: In the heat of battle, you will have to make impulsive moves, and do _not_ expect your enemy to fight fair. Don't think, just do."

"Rule number ten: If you see an angry woman lunging towards you, sword in hand, don't think, just run." I turned towards the voice, a wry smile ready on my face. Firowen was leaning against the doorpost, arms folded, a jaunty grin in place.

"Can I help you?"

"Well, that depends." My eyes narrowed to slits. "Alright, never mind. I was just wondering what you were doing slicing at Nólad like he's a practice dummy. I doubt his sister would like to come back and find her little brother diced up."

"Genévieve?" Nólad piped up enthusiastically. Firowen nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"So, what exactly _are_ you doing to poor Nólad?"

"Nothing. Just…helping him out a little." An eyebrow raise.

"_Really?_ Maybe you could give _me_ a few pointers?" He walked to the centre of the room and stood an arm's length from me.

"Sure." I grabbed his ear lobe, twisting and pulling downwards. He let out a strangled noise and waved his arms in the vague direction of my offending hand. "Feel that pain?" I dug a nail in briefly for effect. He nodded slowly and stiffly. "Remember that pain every time you think about saying something like that ever again. Got that?" A nod. "Good." I released him. He rubbed his ear for a while, taking it surprisingly well. Then he gave me a flirtatious half-grin and told me I was good at that, did I practice often? Cheeky bastard.

I heard running footsteps and turned my attention to the doorway. Celoril came hurrying in, casting an anxious glance at the door.

"She's not here yet? Oh good…" He visibly relaxed.

  
"Who…?" I started lamely.

"The twins' sister. She's coming back today."

"You're running away from your sister? She can't be that horrible."

"Oh no, I love her enough, it's just--"

"Celery!" I heard a sing-song female's voice ring out from down the corridor.

"She calls me that." He said witheringly, sagging onto a bench.

"Hello all!" I turned towards the door to see a woman, Cer standing close behind her. Following a distinct trend, she was tall, slim and beautiful, with a round, rosy-cheeked face and a long, curly head of darker blonde hair. Celoril was on his feet immediately, the momentum behind her embrace almost knocking the twins over. "Oh, my little Nólie! And Celery, too! Oh, I missed you two so much!" Celery? Nólie? I wasn't sure whether to be horrified or amused. Before letting the twins get a word in, Firowen took a step forward, arms outstretched.

"Jen!"

"Don't even _try_ it." Her voice had suddenly become flat and held a distinctly murderous tone. She turned to me, smiling whilst giving me a polite, appraising once-over.

"Allow me to _proudly_ introduce the lovely Lady Genévieve Ním'ére." He bowed extravagantly, one arm swooping towards her. She thwacked him around the back of his head before extending her hand towards me in one movement.

"Hi, I'm Jen." This was their sister? She seemed so different from both of them, but as I'd learnt time and time again in the past week or so, I couldn't judge her based on her rather…_colourful_ entrance alone.

"Yuna." I took her hand, and became increasingly scared of her widening grin as she shook it vigorously.

"So, here for the tournament? Where does _he_ know you from?" She inclined her head towards Firowen, her voice flattening on the _he_.

"Sort of. And _he_ knows me through Legolas."

"Where _is _Legolas, anyway? Is he with…" Firowen asked cheerfully. .

"Tengaar." Jen confirmed. Who the hell was Tengaar? Why did no one tell me anything? "Oh, where's Narin?"

  
"Oh, she told me to tell her when you arrived." Nolad said, his tone cursing his absent-mindedness as he made for the door, his pace increasing.

"Um…"

"Oh, forgive me. Here I come barging in on you like this." She sat on a bench beside Cer and pulled Celoril down next to her. "Carry on whatever you were doing before I interrupted." She then proceeded to get Celoril in a headlock and began rub her knuckles into his skull mercilessly, the sweetest look possible on her face. "Now did you really think you get away from me? I mean come _on._ You should know by now that if you just let me embarrass you enough in front of people, you won't have to suffer later on. But _no_." She carried on her little monologue-aided torture, seemingly unaware of the two of us standing and watching.

"Anyway." I turned to Firowen. "_Where_ were we?"

"Well." He started, drawing the word out to twice it's length. "Since your sparring partner seems to be otherwise engaged, why don't I substitute?"

"Fine." I said spiritlessly, raising my sword.

"Hey, isn't that sword Lego--"

"Yes." He shrugged.

"Just checking."

~*~

"_Again_! Come _on_, Firowen. At least put up some kind of a fight." Jen was at the sidelines, her fists bawled as she cheered on the match. Celoril merely stay sat down, the smirk on his face promising rumours, nay, _truths_, flying around concerning the fact that he was just beaten by a woman. A Half-Elven woman, no less, as well as an outsider. Cer just looked amused.

"What do you mean, _again?_ That was only the second time!" Firowen protested. I tutted at him like an errant child.

"That's still two too many."

"Honestly. One should think that with your decades of training, centuries of experience, et cetera, you would at least have _some_ basic skill." Jen again, rolling her eyes masterfully. I was beginning to like her.

"Look, it's not that I'm bad, it's just that _she_--" He mock spat venomously, "just so happens to be really rather _good_ at this." He looked away and mumbled, "besides, she cheated."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You didn't follow any of the rules of engagement." He said louder, proud that he finally found a case against me.

__

"Rules of Engagement?"

"Yes, in a fair fight, I'd have easily beaten you."

"And you think that's an incentive for me to fight fair? Seriously, I thought you of all people would know."

"Know what?"

"In _any_ fight, the only limit is your own ability. When was the last time you followed the 'Rules of Engagement' in a bloody battle with Orcs?" 

"Well…" Silence. "…You cheated!"

"Yes, and you lost."

"What's this?" Narin, I turned to the door to see Jen launch off her seat and tackle Narin in a hug amidst a squeal of her name. Narin laughed and returned the embrace. Nólad sat with his brother as they watched the scene unfold.

"Firowen _lost_." Jen proclaimed, clapping her hands ecstatically once she had released her friend.

"To Yuna?" She asked, looking to me.

"Yes!" Jen squealed, Narin giggled, looking at a pouting Firowen.

"Aw, don't worry. It's okay if you lost." She grinned. "_I_ don't mind that you're just a big _wuss_!" Now that was something I never thought I'd hear from the ever passive Narin. I waited patiently for the comment from Firowen….but it never came. I turned to him to see an odd sort of smile on his face. It was almost like he was embarrassed. But that couldn't be it. I'd seen Dwarfs with more shame than he had. A strange expression passed Narin's face, then it was gone.

"So, when's the opening round?" Jen asked, cutting the atmosphere.

"Opening round?"

"You _know_, the archery thing that Legolas always wins." And just like that, the conversation lightened immediately, all thoughts of awkwardness out the window. It was something that always amazed me, their ability to forget about things as if they never happened. But this was something new, something I'd have to look into further.

~*~

It was later that day, further into the afternoon that was just skimming evening. The group had slowly dispersed, and I was ambling along, searching vainly for Legolas. I hadn't spoken to him since a few days ago, and I still needed to ensure my place in the tournament, although I was certain he would have sorted it out already. I needed to practice my archery a little more if it was to begin so soon. My mind drifted back to the last time we spoke…

*~*

A string of curses whispered through the courtyard as yet another arrow barely skimmed the target's edge. I retrieved the offending arrow and notched a new one, taking careful aim. By all laws of logic, physics and the universe combined, I should have been hitting it dead centre. Of course, this was not the case. I pulled back the string on the longbow, ready to let fly.

"Your right foot's too far back." I stopped, lowering the bow and looking to the door. There stood Legolas, bow in hand, a quiver strapped to his back. I shifted my foot, re-notching the arrow. "Shoulders are too tense." I relaxed them a little. "Straighten your arm."

"Look, I know I'm not as good as you, _your highness_, but will you_ stop _bloody going on about it?"

"You want to have a chance don't you?" I sighed.

"Fine. What else am I doing wrong?" He walked up to where I stood.

"Archery and swordplay are two very different arts. You're unconsciously taking up a melee position, which is too tense and wide for the effective use of ranged weapons."

"And so…?"

"Here." He moved my left leg back a little, making a few slight adjustments to my stance as he continued upwards where he gave me leave to try it again. It hit the target, but just barely.

"Eh, it's an improvement in any case. Thanks." I took aim again.

"The aim on a crossbow and a longbow are also very different. Let me." He stood behind me, and made to take hold of the bow around me.

"Hey …what are you doing?" I shifted.

"Just trying to help you aim." Was somewhat of a lame excuse.

"….Okay then. Go on." He resumed, sliding his hands down my arms, moving them slightly as he went. Finally he grasped the bow and, with me, pulled the string back. He pressed closer to my back, and drew breath, no doubt to give me some pointer or another.

Unfortunately, it was at that exact moment that my instinct chose to take over all rational thought. As his torso brushed my sensitive lower back, a chain reaction was set off, causing the hand the held the string and arrow to let go, bawl into a fist, and elbow the Prince squarely in the stomach. Before I realised what had happened, he was doubled over, breathless and clutching his midriff.

"I'm sorry!" I said, holding back laughter as I discarded the bow and put a hand on his shoulder, bringing his head up to look at me with a shocked expression. "You okay?"  
  
"You just…elbowed me…in the ribs…" He rasped, unbelieving.

"Well…I tried to warn you. I didn't mean to, if it helps." He finally stood up straight, rubbing the sore spot that would probably leave a light bruise later. "On the bright side." I inclined my head towards the target. The arrow was buried perfectly in the centre. "You're a great teacher." I grinned.

*~*

No one was supposed to have been there. It was late in the evening when I'd crept down to the practice courts to squeeze in a little late-night failure before the sun rose. And there he was, in perfect, polished, blonde glory. Bah.

And now he was no where to be seen. I went to the library, in the hopes of finding Narin, thinking she may be able to tell me. It was just as I rounded the corner of the corridor that I saw someone go out of the library, without thinking, I called after them.

"Excuse me?" She -- it had to be female, no man could live with a figure like that -- turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. Dark brown ringlets, almost black, framed a flawless, oval face. Perfectly sculpted eyebrows sloped over long-lashed, deep, hazel eyes. Rosy, bow-lips set off a matte complexion to utter faultlessness.

"Yes?" Her soft voice rang out across the corridor, snapping me out of my reverie. 

"I…Do you know if Narin's in there?" She shook her head, taking a few steps toward me. Her hair tumbled in silky curls over her shoulders with the movement.

  
"No, I was just looking for her in fact. Are you…no, you _must_ be Lady Yunalesca that I've heard so much about." She smiled, toothpaste-advert teeth gleaming.

"Yes, I…how did…?"

"Legolas. He told me he might have a little competition this time concerning the upcoming tournament." She seemed to remember herself, and extended her hand suddenly. "Forgive me, where are my manners? I'm Tengaar."

"Oh _you're_ Tengaar. I was wondering who was keeping Legolas from seeing his best friend ground into the dust." She laughed a buoyant, lively laugh.

"Yes, I heard about that. Well, in my opinion, Firowen could use a little humbling." After a short pause, curiosity overtook me, and I asked the question burning on my lips.

"You're not from here, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm from Rivendell."

"So…are you some distant relative of his, or something? A friend?" I asked, not unkindly. Strangely, she almost giggled.

"Oh no, I'm his betrothed."

A.N. **EXPLANATIONS: 1. **Why every twelve years? Because, we decided to put something remotely canon in the fic, and this way it reflects the Elvish preference for counting in sixes and twelves. A _yén_ is like the Elvish equivalent of a year (it's 144 years long) because of their long life span. They also have a period of time equivalent to a year called a _loa_ or _coranar_

****

2. Squee! The ever-present obstacle. Don't worry, she's not gonna be the usual evil-bitch-from-Hades-who-wants-Leggie-all-to-her-evil-bitchy-self. You'll see later on…maybe she will be…you just don't know! We don't knpow ourselves! But you weren't supposed to know that! *shuts up*

Right, that's all our canon-shattering OCs for the moment. In case anyone's wondering, we've got a little pronunciation guide thing:

Firowen, Nólad, Narin, Gildor, Jen, Tengaar: Exactly as written.

Celoril, Cer: In Elvish, 'C' is pronounced 'K', so that's the way we're going.

Genévieve: 'G' as in the French "Je." 'Né' as in 'Neh.' So it's Je-neh-vive. Kinda Frenchy, but we thought it suited her, and Tali made me do it. (We based her on Jessica (Natasha Lyonne) from American Pie.)

Reviews:

Lilena: Nail bunny? The only name I've ever gone under is Psycho Bunny, so can't help you there, I'm afraid. And as for the lovin', this chappie kind of marks something beginning-ish. Even if we don't get on to Legomanciness yet, we've got a different plot to keep you people somewhat satisfied.

Zierah: Erm…thanks? GENERAL HEALTH WARNING: Staying up all night reading fics can cause serious damage to your: Social life, mental well being, ability to stay awake, ability to differentiate between M.E and anywhere else, pets, computers, nails, and finally, eyes. Thank you.

Ranting Fool: Dear God, stop shamelessly plugging your own fic. We can do it for you (Go on, read his hilarious, uni-chaptered fic, make his day, but don't review)

I Get stalked By Snowmen: Shh. (We mentioned her name once, I think, but maybe not, I can't remember) 

Afowe Utina'vara: Cool name. Yuna's feminine side? You make it sound like she's a butch lesbian or something (please no one bitch to me about insulting lesbians, I love 'em, know three of 'em), although I kinda understand how it may seem like that.

Serpent Of Light: And the little messenger icon telling us we've got another review warms our little black hearts. ^_^

Melia: Why thank you. We do too.

Sweet-legolas: We love Firowen (the _real_ one) too. He bought us chocolate to feed our fat the other day, in exchange for us waxing his legs.

Jmmart11: Sorry. We've kinda been swamped by loads of stuff all at once. Thanks to you, I managed to cough up the final half of this chappie last night! See? Reviews _do_ encourage us.


	24. Pretence

A.N. No one reads these anyway. ;p

"…And I watched from my window,  
Always felt I was outside looking in on you.  
You're always the mysterious one with  
Dark eyes and careless hair,  
You were fashionably sensitive  
But too cool to care.  
You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say  
Besides some comment on the weather.  
Well in case you failed to notice,  
In case you failed to see,  
This is my heart bleeding before you,  
This is me down on my knees, and,  
These foolish games are tearing me apart,  
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.  
You're breaking my heart…"

Jewel ~ Foolish Games

Chapter 22: Pretence

"His…betrothed?" I repeated the words she had spoken only moments ago.

  
"That's right," She said cheerily. "Are you alright?" Tengaar asked in concern a moment later. My face must have visibly paled.

"Oh, I'm fine." I did my best to recover, "It's just…ah, well I can't see how someone like _him_ could get someone like…well, you." Aright, so it wasn't the best thing I could have come up with, but it worked at the time. She smiled, her hazel eyes lighting up.

"I know he seems a bit…stiff at times, but underneath that he's really a loving, caring person." '_If you call persistency and stubbornness caring, then sure_.' I thought, wondering why he hadn't told me he was promised. "When I first met Legolas, he was very…how should I put it? Closed-off?" She paused, drawing breath deeply. "But once I really got to know him, he opened up and I saw…the real him." Tengaar seemed distant, remembering things long past. "Oh, listen to me carrying on when I'm sure you have better things to do." She suddenly broke into the present.

  
"Yeah, sure." I replied weakly.

"I'd best be getting on." She said, choosing to ignore my lack of enthusiasm. "There are so many people I haven't seen it what seems like forever. So much catching up to do." She gave me a brief smile. "Well, Yuna, it was nice meeting you." Tengaar said, a note of finality in her voice. "I guess I'll see you 'round." With that she raised her hand, the fingernails of which were exactly a half centimetre long, gave a wave which consisted of barely a flick of the wrist, and was gone.

~*~

"So…" I addressed Narin. We were sat out on the balcony of her room, one door down from mine. She was somewhat preoccupied, her nose firmly planted in a book with a worn, leather bound cover. This left me with only myself for company and so for the last hour or so I had stared out at the city and…counted things. How many people there were walking about, houses, trees, methods of suicide…

When I actually realised I was doing the latter of these, I decided that something would have to be done to alleviate my immense case of chronic boredom.

"Ahem, so…" I tried again, a little louder this time as she obviously hadn't noticed the first.  


"…Hmmm?" She made half an attempt at a decent response but still didn't take her eyes of the neatly scribed Tengwar letters.

"…How long have they been together?" I wondered what had possessed me to say that. But the question had been plaguing my mind since the day before when I'd talked to Tengaar and I wasn't too thrilled at the idea of asking either of them.

"Huh?" She made the sound in the back of the throat before doing me the courtesy of putting the book down. "How long have who been together?

"You know, Legolas and Tengaar."

"Oh, right." She crinkled her forehead in an adorable manner in thought. "Well, they met about, um, I suppose it's been about a thousand years or so, and they've been courting for about two thirds of that time. So I guess the answer to your question is about six hundred years. She must have seen the look of horror on my face and so decided to elaborate. "You know how it is with those Noldor. Everything takes forever. Courtship can last as long as a year to an age. Literally." I had to admit although it did seem like quite a long time to just be courting, to them it was perfectly normal. I let my eyes wonder back over the city, the horizon beginning to erupt in an orange blaze as the sun started to set.

"Wait, she's a _Noldor?_"

"Oh yes." Said Narin extravagantly. "Also part Edain, _and_ Sindar." She smiled at my disbelieving expression. "Well that's what happens when you've got a Half-Elven grandfather who's brother is related through about a hundred generations to the King of Gondor. And I suppose she can't help being as lovely as she is with the Evenstar for an aunt." This was too hard to imagine. She couldn't be…

"Which one?" I said finally.

"Elrohir." Unless I was mistaken, I caught a note of bitterness entering her tone.

"Narin, correct me if I'm wrong…but are you _jealous_?" She looked at me for a second then laughed.

"Of course not. I'm only joking. I love her; she's a good friend of mine. But it's fun just bitching, don't you think?" Did she just say that? I could only nod dumbly. "Hey…why'd you want to know?" Said Narin after a moment of silence."

"Oh, just wondering." I replied nonchalantly. "So what's the book about?" I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

  
"Well, it's a modern study of the ancient Teleri healing techniques and how they've been adapted with new discoveries." I raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Then why is it called '_Sairalindë _and the Cave Troll?" I enquired cynically.

"Alright, I lied." She admitted. "It's about this beautiful princess whose true love is changed into a cave troll by an Evil Wizard. Then, when she finally manages to change him back, her parents object to him marring her until he proves himself worthy." I tried to restrain the smirk heading to my face, not wanting to hurt her feelings and thankfully managed to do so. "I know it must seem silly," She added. "But I think it's ever so romantic, how they manage to overcome all obstacles…" She sighed and sunk back into the cushioned bench we were both sat on. "If only…" The sentence trailed off. I was tempted to ask what she meant but decided not to pry. Besides, I had an inclination as to what she meant.

After a minute or two in silence, Narin returned to her book and left me to my own devices once again. I stood up to stretch my legs, feeling them starting to go numb and slightly tingly, before striding over to the banister at the edge of the spacious balcony overlooking the main courtyard.

Down bellow, rows of pruned trees, shrubs and neatly tended pebble pathways stretched out for a good few yards. There were a few people milling about, stable hands, the last of the day's eager gardeners and a few Elves who just seemed to have nothing better to do with their time. I breathed in rapidly cooling air that smelt of cherry blossom and warm earth. Leaning against the polished marble, I closed my eyes, taking in the sounds as the evening drew ever closer. Birds heralded the twilight from the surrounding trees, the soft rustle of leaves existing through the breeze rippling them and a soft, very feminine laugh echoed from the palace grounds. My eyes flickered open and I looked back down, my gaze coming to rest on two figures walking side by side. The first figure, and owner of the noise, was unmistakably Tengaar. The second, I assumed, was Legolas, even though with so many blond haired, blue eyed Elves about, it was hard to tell.

They strolled along, seemingly without a care. Though I'd heard that was the effect love had on people. I wouldn't know, I'd never been in love with anybody, nobody had ever loved me except perhaps my mother, but she was long gone now…because of her love…

  
My gaze skipped past them as I noticed something odd in the bushes. Just poking over the top of a tall, vast array of leaves was a golden head, definitely of an Elf. Like myself, he was watching the couple but in particular, the female of the two. His eyes followed her like a hawk and every time one or both of them laughed, he scowled. He must have known her, that much was obvious, but who was this stalker? Surely if Legolas found out about him, he would be in trouble and that was putting it lightly. Thankfully, she noticed him first, their eyes meeting with a fleeting glance. She grabbed Legolas' shoulders; catching him unaware, and spinning him round so that his back was turned to their observer. She made up an excuse at a speed that almost gave me a touch of admiration and dragged him off quickly. With their absences, he left his position crouching behind a hedge swiftly, not giving me a clear look at his face.

What had just happened? Who was he? Why did Tengaar hide him? What was going on? I was full of questions I wanted to hurl at her, but I remained silent for the time being.

After another moment or two staring out at the twilit city, I returned to the bench, Narin still being completely engrossed in her book.

  
"Oh!" She said, putting the book to one side as I sat down. "I almost forgot to tell you. You've been invited to come with us tomorrow evening." She smiled disarmingly.

  
"Who's 'us'…and where?" I asked apprehensively.

"'Us' is me, Nólad, Cer, Celoril, Tengaar, Firowen, Jen and Legolas." She paused for my answer. It didn't come. "I've been told not to take no for an answer." Narin continued.

  
"Sure." I shrugged, knowing I wasn't going to win with her. "What's the harm?"

~*~

I lay in my bed that night, not because I had any intention of sleeping, just because it was a comfortable place to think. Lying on my side, I gazed out into the heavens, watching the stars as they carelessly lived out their existence, shining diamonds in a velvet sky. What were the questions that troubled me? There was, of course, the old favourite: Why did I care?

Why did I care that Legolas was betrothed? And to someone so incredibly dazzling? Gorgeous? Perfect? All of them described her to a T. Why did I resent her so much?…Apart from those previously mentioned facts. Why was I allowing myself to be dragged off when I didn't even know where we were going? I wasn't comfortable with the situation, why didn't I just say no? Was I losing grip on myself?

Who was the person hiding and why had he been observing the happy couple? What connection did he have with Tengaar? And all of this led me irrefutably back to my first question…why did I care that Legolas was betrothed?

I shoved a pillow over my head, hoping it might drown out my thoughts. No such luck. In less than a week I'd got my head completely screwed up. What was I to do? I felt like screaming. I felt like running. At least with Orcs you knew where you stood, and you knew what they wanted. Generally, your head on a pike. But…I had no idea what the people here wanted from me, and that frightened me more than I cared to admit. Even to myself.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretching the sore muscles in my back. I hadn't stretched in what seemed like an age, not properly. Not when you feel you could bend like rubber. I tilted my head backwards, tipping over until my hands caught the edge of the bed.

I hadn't fought either. Sure, I'd been fighting the Orcs, but that was just scare tactics and evading them. I meant hand to hand where it was just you and the person you were up against.

My hands met the floor in a bridge, my stomach muscles straining to stretch far enough.

Fighting. Instinct. Skill. That was all you needed. Not traps set ahead of time, or the overwhelming odds against you, meaning meeting them head on would result in your bloody decapitation.

I brought my head back up by propelling it forward and up, aided by the springing of my arms. The blood rushing down to my brain was becoming painful and it throbbed in my ears. I tipped forward, almost without thinking, feeling my hands connect with the cold polished stone floor. My legs went up until I was vertical and my loose hair pooled on the ground bellow. I wiggled my toes as a strength I hadn't felt in a while filled my arms. Slowly, with a flexibility that always came to me when I needed it, I parted my legs until they were perfectly split and pointed. It may have seemed a bit stupid, but these things helped me not to feel my age as much. I wasn't old and crippled, my body was just as it had always been when I was just in my mid twenties, but it certainly felt like it at times.

There was just one final workout before I was finished. One last thing to do before I put my feet back on the ground. Gently balancing my weight on my left arm, I lifted my fight, pointed my index finger, and touched the tip of my nose.

After that, I lay on my back on the stone floor and pondered my immortal question for a while: What was I to do?

~*~

It was just before daybreak that I found myself wandering through the lush array of plants in the palace's extensive gardens. There were all sorts of flowers but I noticed the most common were roses. Deep red, pure white, light pink, bright yellow. You could smell the pungent scent from a mile off. Among their vast, neatly trimmed bushes were other flowers. Lilies, a personal favourite, daises, pansies, which I always considered a bit garish, orchids, probably from the East, geraniums, there were far more than I could count or name.

Of course they were all closed at this time of the morning, but as soon as dawn broke on the horizon they would open, letting their perfume mingle with the early morning air. I wondered on meaningfully through the maze of hedges, finally stumbled on a small pond that was encompassed by, for some reason, slightly overgrown bushes. This made it hard for anyone to know of its presence until they were practically on top of it. To one side, around the edge, where reeds, swaying in the early morning breeze and on to the other was a rather familiar presence.

"Fancy meeting you here." I addressed Firowen, who was sat on one grassy bank with a vague look of contemplation gracing his features.

"Hello." He said, briefly turning his head to meet my gaze.

"Why exactly are you mutilating a flower?" I was, of course, referring to the daisy he held in his fingers, half of the petals had been plucked off and were now floating aimlessly on the surface of the water.

"No reason really…" He trailed off. I decided to go sit beside him, truly having nothing better to do. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked after a while. I shook my head.

"Didn't really need to." I slowly became aware that I really should have put more on before I left my room. The loose, long-sleeved top I was wearing was light and frankly didn't leave much to the imagination. But then again, who was I to feel embarrassed?

"So, how does that whole sleeping thing work?" He asked, flicking the now fully de-petalled flower into the pond.

"It's kind of complicated." I started, a promising beginning to any explanation. "It's like being a very acute insomniac. The human part of me is telling me I'm exhausted and I should be sleeping. But then the Elven side is saying that I only slept a few weeks ago, why was I bothering again?" I sighed. "Not very pleasant."

"I'd imagine not." He said sympathetically. He'd only recently found out I was a Halfelven, through a random mention of my human side in a conversation. Of course, the other two parties present, Legolas and Narin, had known about it for some time, and acted as if it was common knowledge. Firowen of course suddenly remembered knowing all about it, and waved it off as a slip of his mind.

"But I've learnt to cope over time…a long time…" I breathed in and out deeply.

"So what about the dreams?" He asked, seeming fascinated with the subject of my sleeping patterns now. I felt like a lab rat.

"That's…really impossible to explain…"

"Why?"

"I couldn't say."

"Fair enough, I wouldn't want you to wrack that pretty little head of yours on my account."  


"Ah, I see the sarcasm's finally woken up with you."

"Hilarious." He remarked flatly.

"Seriously, though. What was wrong with you a minute ago, you seemed marginally intelligent. Was all the thinking bruising your poor, overworked head?" All right, so it was definitely too early in the morning for my insult generator to work efficiently.

"I was thinking about something, or more…someone." His eyes took on a faraway look as he said the last few words. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Who?" I also couldn't help but pry.

"I couldn't say…" He echoed the words I'd spoken a few minutes ago in a surprisingly similar tone.

"Fine, I get the hint." I smiled. Firowen attempted to do the same but didn't quite manage it; his gaze still focused on some distant point. I dabbed my fingers in the green tinted water, ripples drawing out and breaking up the reflection of the fading moon and stars.

"You know, now that you're here, I've been meaning to ask someone, why was your party traipsing through Rohan?" It was a minute of silence before he answered. 

"Obviously we assumed that, you know, the locals might need the aid of a few dashing hero's to save them from monstrous individuals." 

"…huh?"

"We were on our way back from Gondor, or Minas Tirth to be precise, Legolas had business with the King." I nodded slightly. 

"How is Aragorn?" I said out of interest. It was a rare that news of the outside world passed the borders of Fangorn and as I had been so engulfed with my own dealings I hadn't had time to check up on old friends. 

"Aragorn?" He said with a slightly confused look on his face. "Oh! You mean King Elassar." He realised after a moment. "He's prospering. The kingdom is growing in beauty more so everyday and I'm sure with a little time it will be back to it's former glory." I grinned slightly.

"I think I'm asking the wrong person, no offence." He nodded knowingly.

"Legolas spent a lot of time catching up with him, I'm sure he'll have more information then I could give you." I mimicked his nod, once again staring into the abyss of sky. 

"So, Narin invited me to join you this evening," His head jolted up at the mention of her name, I battled to keep the knowing smirk off my face. "But she neglected to mention where we were going." He chuckled.

"Now, now, we're being sneaky." He shook his head, sending blond locks tumbling over his shoulders. "Don't worry, you'll find out tonight. And anyway, it's not like we're going to do anything to you. Hell, you never know, you might even enjoy the evening."

~*~

The day went all too quickly for me. Before I knew it, Narin and Genévieve were dragging me out of my room and leading me down to the courtyard where the others mentioned were assembled. I gulped air. '_Here we go…_'

As we walked down through the tunnels, I realised I as probably being slightly over dramatic. What was the worst that could happen? A little socialising was something that if I tried really hard, I might actually live through.

After a good twenty minutes, we exited the tunnels into a heavily forested area. The sun came down through the trees in long beams of faded light. At the moment, I was involved in a conversation with Celoril concerning the advantages and disadvantages of a short sword over a longer, heavier version, as he seemed quite the enthusiast on weapons. A few paces in front of us was Jen, pointedly trying to ignore Firowen who was striding alongside her and Narin. Behind us, the prince and his…betrothed, no matter how hard I tried, I could not think of her as anything else. And behind them Nolad and Cer carried on a conversation I couldn't quite make out.

Slowly, I started to relax, feeling more at ease in these surroundings. It reminded me of the closest thing I ever had to a 'home.' Except it was definitely brighter and noisier.

"It's true that although you have less reach with it, the weight difference can give you an advantage against a quicker opponent." Celoril put forward his point. I nodded in half-hearted agreement.

"But with less reach, you are more open to attack by enemies with longer weapons. Also, some, including myself, prefer the heavier long sword. It's weight causes extra damage, and it is, in my opinion, easier to wield. Of course you get the added advantage of--" My reply was cut short by a girlish squeal in front of us. I looked up to see Jen dashing off ahead with Firowen a step behind. After a moment's hesitation, both I and the elf beside me quickened our pace until we came alongside the newly deserted Narin.

"What happened?" Celoril asked. We both noticed that her face had turned an interesting shade of tomato red.

"…She…um…uh…she…insulted his…erm…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "…Manhood…" The fully-grown woman said the word like a child recounting a swear word to two very stern parents. I shrugged, not really seeing her point. I'd insulted countless men's…manhood and they'd never tried to chase me. Though on second thought, the fact that they knew I could break every bone in their body if they tried might have been a deterrent.

"Poor Firowen." It was Legolas at mine and Narin's shoulders.

"Why?" I asked, not seeing why he should gain any sympathy when she was the one being chased.

"Well, he's going to get any manliness he has left beaten out of him when Jen's decided she's tired of running." I grinned as I imagined Firowen grovelling for his life at a vastly smaller built Genévieve's feet. The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed. 

  
"I get the feeling we shouldn't leave the two of them alone." I remarked.

"Funny." The archer chuckled mirthlessly. "Me too." We looked at each other for all of a second. "We'll be back in a minute." We took off, trees whipping by us as we both hoped we reached the two before there was some kind of mishap. We found them in a clearing surrounded by a near perfect ring of elms. Jen had her hands on her hips, glaring at a somewhat insulted looking Firowen. I couldn't overhear the argument they were obviously having but they stopped as soon as we got anywhere close.

"Why were you guys running?" Asked Jen, brushing the incident off as if it had never happened.

"We were pretty sure that you'd have Firowen on an inch of his life by now." She feigned a look of shock.

  
"Me?" She twittered innocently. "Now, would I really hurt such a dear friend?" She smiled deviously, slipping an arm around his neck to prove her point, but from my vantage point, she was dangerously close to his jugular.

  
"Precisely." He captured her in a surprise bear-hug, squeezing so hard she was left breathless when he finally let go. She thwacked him in the stomach and whipped her golden curls over her petite shoulders haughtily with a little 'hmph!"

It was only now that I noticed how well managed the clearing looked. In the very centre was a scorched patch of earth that had obviously been the sight of a camp fire not so long ago. Arranged in an almost symmetrical manner, were four sturdy logs that looked strangely comfortable. Up to the tree line the grass was lush, green and had hardly a leaf on it. All this hinted that someone had looked after the circle. 

"Is this the infamous 'somewhere'?" I asked to all of them, apparently the tension was too much for the three and neither looked willing to answer. Thankfully, they all gave me a half nod, though nothing so extravagant as a voiced response. '_Well…this isn't awkward in the slightest._' I sighed inwardly. 

Tired, either of standing or the situation, Jen strolled to the nearest log and gracefully sat down. This action left the rest of us standing like disgruntled passengers on a bus, none willingly to take the only empty seat. Once again I felt that need to run, go as far as I could as fast as I could. Jen was spending an absurd amount of time straightening out her skirt, but this was obviously not an attempt to ward off wrinkles. After a while of strained silence, both Legolas and Firowen made an unspoken agreement to sit each taking up a space on the logs either side of the she-elf. 

And there I was, left on my own in the middle of an argument I didn't even fully understand. I had some idea as to what the topic would be, but any details were too far shut behind their lips for me to get to. The fact was I could just tell they were waiting to see whose party I would join. I hated awkward situations. I couldn't see why people just bottled things up for years on end, some even having the stupidity to do it for a lifetime, when coming clean was so much easier and a lot more gratifying. 

So there I was and lets just say a rock and a hard place was nothing compared to this. Personally, I didn't care whom I sat next to but they obviously did, and so I took the only safe option, Legolas. Besides, in the last twenty-four hours or so I was still no closer to answering my question and perhaps this would be of some help. 

It wasn't long before the morbid silence was broken by soft voices making their way to us and soon after the others appeared through the dense foliage. Their smiling faces contrasted strongly with our sombre mood and each group looked out of place with the others scene. Tengaar headed up their group her chocolate curls glinting with the sun and complementing her complexion extensively. The others walked behind her slightly, almost as if this was a part of some abstract play and they were peasants, only fit to walk in the goddess shadow. 

"So, what happened then?" Celoril asked as they came to a temporary standstill before taking up their places on the only available seating. Jen scowled slightly at the object of her annoyance, but it was one of those cases that blink and you would have missed it. 

"Whatever do you mean?" Firowen replied, seemingly unfazed. The younger elf looked taken back for a second before he shook his head lightly and mouthed the words never mind. 

"It seems like it's been forever since I last came here." Stated Tengaar, seemingly obliviously to the situation from her place on the other side of Legolas. 

"No offence," I started. "But why exactly are we here?" I asked because the Prince's betrothed had said it like we'd stumbled into some sort of wonderland whereas personally I didn't see the big deal. "I mean it's nice and all, but I can't see what all the fuss is about…" I trailed off, they all had to some degree or another hurt puppy dog expressions on their faces.

"It's our…" Nolad tried to start but couldn't quite finish his sentence.

"It's our sanctity." Narin explained what the other could not. "Where we go to escape life at the palace, even the city." My brow crinkled slightly.

"…No, I'm not getting this, what exactly do you need to escape?" 

"Everything." Voiced Celoril. "Dealing with our lives in general, all the hassles and stress--"

"Excuse me?" I butted in without thinking. "There are people out there who don't know where their next meal is coming from, who work each day till they can hardly move, for nothing. Who don't know if they'll live to see another sun rise because they don't own their lives and _you're _going on about stress!" I realised now who exactly it was I was telling off, but to tell the truth, I couldn't care less. Besides, when had I ever let something so trivial as titles deter me from saying what I thought? "I'm sorry, but I don't know how being waited on hand and foot can be deemed as _stressful_."

"You don't understand--"

"Understand what? It's a hard life never having to worry about your future, if you'll have to sell your soul to pay for the roof over your head?"

"No, that's not what I mean."

"Then what _do_ you mean?"

"I know how it might be for someone like you--" 

"Someone like me, it's not like I live in a pit…no wait, _I do_, and so, yes, that is probably why I find it so hard to believe that you could be going on about hassles. I've seen brothers killing each other over a scrap of food after a hard winter, yet you, you've been protected from that your entire life, don't you realise just how good you've got it?"

It was all too painfully quiet now. No one knew what to say, but I suppose that was to be expected. They were all looking at the ground; no one wanting to meet the others gazes. I wondered if I should feel remorse for my words, after all, they had taken me in, even accepted me as friend. Far more than what most others would have done.

"I'm sorry." I said, the words sounding lame to my ears. "I kind of understand, but…don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Still silence. "It's true I don't know the half of what you people experience, I've only been here for a little while in any case, but I still don't understand how you could think you're any worse off than the common people in the city." I trailed off, not really expecting a reply, and perplexed when I finally got one.

"You're right." Narin started. "I suppose most people would kill to be in our positions. But…" She looked into the fire that had slowly been built up by the joint effort from Nólad and Cer. "I remember the first time I went down into the city. Of course, my father insisted on this entourage accompanying me, which was just the last thing I wanted _or_ needed. I heard these women talking in the marketplace. It shocked me, the things they would freely speak of in public. When they saw me, they instantly recognised who I was and suddenly got so formal and…I just felt really out of place…" She looked back up at me. "I remember wishing, more than anything in the world, that I could be just like them. Free to do whatever I wanted."

"The thing is," Firowen began in a surprisingly serious tone. "You _really_ can't empathise that much. You have so much freedom that none of us have ever had. I doubt anyone's ever tried to hold you down, and you don't know what it feels like to always have someone you're trying to please. He looked down, a humourless smile on his face. "You don't know how much we envy you for being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Freedom is of far more value than status, wealth, possessions, anything that our lifestyle could offer."

In a strange way, I _did_ understand what they were trying to get across. Not from personal experience, of course, Firowen was right, anyone who had the audacity to hold me back swiftly regretted it, but from watching others. I saw the way Arwen, the Elven Evenstar, daughter of Elrond the wise, cursed her heritage as she fell for a mortal. And now, I saw the way these high-ranking Elves longed for a simpler life. One free of duties and the constant expectations.

"If it makes any difference, I quite enjoy being waited on hand and foot. I just come here to bitch and moan about life in general." And just like that, again, Jen had broken the tension with another of her little comments. "And speaking of bitching, have you_ seen_ who, or _what_, Lúinwë picked up from East Lorien? Maglo…something? He has the personality of a brick wall. _Literally_."

"Oh, you mean Carnesîr? He's not _so_ bad…" Tengaar defended.  
  
"Sure, if you like people who count monosyllabic answers as an extravagance."

"Sure he has his moods, but…" A moment of thought." Oh wait, he doesn't. He's always like that." A shrug. "You're right."

~*~

"No, no, no, you're telling it all wrong." It was Legolas, for the last hour the group had been recanting me with tales of their childhood. The sky was utterly dark; a few stars visible through the natural skylight directly above us. "You didn't tell him to give it. After he told you that you couldn't have Woozles, you cried so hard I thought you were going to--"

"Okay!" Firowen interjected. "Stop right there! You're just trying to make me look bad. Woozles was a very important relic of my childhood." He added rather sincerely.

"Then what about your safety blanket?" Added Jen.

"What? What safety blanket? I never had one."

"You so did!" Narin laughed sweetly. "It was blue with little tassels around the edges and--"

"No! Enough!" He turned to the prince with a rather psychopathic look in his eyes. "Why don't we talk about Legolas now?"

"Oh no, I think we've already heard enough."

"Nonsense" I said, this was an opportunity that I was not going to miss. "It's only fair."

"Jen, come on, reason with him." He said, in desperation. 

"Oh hun, you know I would, but I'm just so very tired."

"Narin?"

"Not a chance." She replied flatly.

"Tengaar, please, they'll listen to you."

"Oh no." She started gently. "I want to hear this, carry on."

"_Well_." Firowen began extravagantly. "I remember a time when Legolas couldn't shoot straight."

"_No."_ I said, feigning a shocked expression.

  
"_Oh_ yes." Cer said, surprisingly enough, his eyes grinning for him.

"Back when Legolas was nought but a little elfling." Jen reminisced. "What was her name? Alassea…?"

"No, that was the _other_ one." Jen's face lit up gleefully. "Whom we're _not_ going to talk about." She scowled.

"Fine. Well, anyway. There was this little Elf maid whom our little Prince had something of a crush on."

"Apart from the fact that she was about four times his age…" Firowen drawled.

"I was thirteen!"

"Yes, _well_." Jen silenced all thoughts of interruptions. "So entranced was he with his fair maiden that he made an attempt to impress her with his non-existent archery skills. In the end, of course, he missed the target by miles and ended up pinning her skirt to the ground." She let out something in between a giggle and a cackle. "She refused to speak to him, and left Legolas heart-broken." A communal 'awww' passed around, neglected only by Legolas, Cer and myself.

"Jen had to chase her off afterwards and comfort him." Firowen said, grinning at a smug-looking Genévieve.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jen squealed. "Remember the time when--"

"No I do not remember the time when." Legolas stopped her in her tracks with a glare and a murderous tone. "Now can we please do something? _Anything_ besides sitting around talking about our incredibly boring childhoods?"

"So what about you, Yuna?" Tengaar's question directed the camp's attention towards me. "I bet you had an interesting childhood." I was enjoying just listening and being bone-idle. Now I was being made to talk. Damn. I saw Legolas visibly cringing. He already knew, unlike the others, that this was something of a touchy subject. It was obvious Tengaar was trying her best to be friendly to me. I couldn't condemn her for being curious. I found myself answering, not in my usual 'no entry' fashion, but honestly.

  
"Well…" I thought for a while. "What about one of my earliest childhood memories?" There was a general affirmative murmur. "Let's see…I must have been about seven or eight. I was still living with my mother." I smiled at the memory of her face. "One of the Men there in our village…" I turned to Legolas. "The one on the road to Edoras." He gave a barely noticeable nod. "He played this instrument…it was like a small flute or something…"

"A piccolo?" Narin tried.

"Yes…how did you know that?"

"Guessed."

"Anyway…" I said, not believing her for a second. "He was playing it one time, and I thought it sounded so…" I grasped for the right word. "Beautiful, exotic…I found myself asking him if I could try it. I thought…" I laughed, sincerely. For one of the first times when recounting a memory. "I thought that if I had that little piccolo he was playing, I would sound just like him. He said yes, so I took it and blew as hard as I possibly could. I must have scared half the children around him away, because I let out the shrillest, loudest sound I'd ever heard." I laughed again, staring at the fire. "I got really frustrated because I couldn't sound like him…he said with a little practice I'd be better than him. I knew he was only joking, so I gave it back to him. But before I left, he gave it back. He had another one, and said I could have that one because, apparently…" I looked up, a perplexed expression on my face. "I was cute." Firowen openly laughed at this.

"And…he called…you…" His words were broken up by fits of laughter.

  
"Excuse _you._" I shot. "I might have been a vaguely cute child…"

"Might?" Narin questioned.

"Well, we didn't actually _have_ any mirrors, so I could never really get a very accurate image…oh stop it!" Firowen toned it down to a chuckle.

"I don't doubt for a bit that you were an _adorable_ little child." He started, gaining control of himself. "I'm just imagining a seven-year-old Yunalesca being called 'cute.'" There was a general snigger from the camp. I scowled.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised he got away with his life." There was an 'mm' from Legolas' direction. I turned my glare to him.

"Do you have something to add?" I questioned, my eyes narrowing to slits.

"Do you still play?" Narin asked innocently. I shook my head.

"I stopped a good few thousand years back."

"But you remember, right?"

"No." I said carefully, catching on to her intent fairly quickly.

"Of course you do, you don't forget something like that. It's just like riding a horse."

"But I'm a _very_ forgetful person." I implored.

"No you're not. How else would you remember something that happened over three thousand years ago?" Jen caught on as well, and took Narin's side, much to my dismay.

"Nólad, did you bring that…?" Narin let him work out the rest. He fished in his pack for a while, and, to my utter mortification, pulled out a brightly polished piccolo.

"No." I stated. "Just no." She opened her mouth to weave her way through my excuses. "Absolutely not. I will not, repeat, _not_, play that thing within a league's radius of any of you. There is no way in the flaming pits of Mordor you're going to convince me to, so don't even bother trying. Just _no_."

~*~

And there I was, my fingers remembering the patterns of their own accord as a gentle melody floated around the clearing. My eyes were halfway closed, focused intently on the pipe I held to one side. My breath was slightly shaky, my fingers stiff and unused, but I was surprised at just how much I was able to remember on the spur of the moment. I was still unsure as to how exactly I'd been roped into performing for these vultures, but there I was.

The final note hummed out, tinged with a final vibrato as I finally recalled the technique. I half expected to look up and see the entire circle covering their ears, identical cringes on their faces. I put down the piccolo, and glanced upwards apprehensively. What my eyes met, stunned me. Narin was smiling in her strange, appreciative way, Cer let the merest hint of a lip curl upwards, Firowen looked confused, and the rest of them looked halfway between stunned and mystified.

  
"Alright, I tried to warn you. A thousand years without practice is never a good thing." An attempt at a vague kind of irony provoked nothing.

"Wow…" Jen started. "That was…" She looked at me and beamed. "Pretty." Pretty? Well, not the worst I could have hoped for. It was an old tune that I remembered. I couldn't quite grasp when it was from, or why I chose to so deeply engrave the notes in my memory. It was a slow, haunting aria that strangely soothed me every time the notes skipped through my head.

"Beautiful." Narin agreed. There was a general nodding of heads. I didn't know what to think. They were probably just sparing my feelings. I didn't actually care too much what they thought, I tried to tell them that I was very under-practised, but they -- read: Narin -- ignored me, saying I should at least give it a try.

"Such a haunting melody." Legolas started, his voice unusually faraway. "Is it of your own composition?"

"No…I don't know where it's from, I...can't remember." He nodded.

  
"Are there lyrics?" A flash of a memory shot through my head. A low, woman's voice lulled out a verse, her song floating along with the rhythm.

"Probably. But I don't know them."

"I bet you do, and I bet you've got a voice that's just as good as your playing, and I bet you're just trying to get out of showing us." Narin said eagerly. I laughed, although it sounded like more like a cackle.

"Now you have to be joking. Me? Sing? I'm sorry, but I draw the line at playing. I admit that I was good once upon a time with my little piccolo, but my voice is something, rest assured, you do _not_ want to hear." That was the truth. My voice was not something _I_ would want to hear, let alone inflict it on other people.

"You're _still_ good with that piccolo." Nolad stated. "You were probably better than Legolas, 'once upon a time.'"

"You play?" The question, directed at the Prince, did nothing but elicit a shrug and a half-hearted response.

"Not so much any more, I'm lending it to Nolad so he can try." I looked down at the little instrument, wondering how many other people's lips had played it. 

  
"Interesting." I said. "And Nolad just _happened_ to bring it with him?"

"No, I brought it just in case Legolas decided to play for us. If we don't find anything decent to talk about, that's what we do." He nodded down at his pack. It held a strangely shaped object in it, bits poking out at odd intervals.

"What else have you got in there?" He pulled out a derivation of a harp, more alike to a many-stringed lyre, and handed it to Jen. Now I was confused. "So…is that what you do here? Talk, bitch and play music?"

"Basically." Firowen agreed. "It's just things we do to unwind a little. You know, so we _don't_ go insane." He said this slowly and pointedly to Jen, through clenched teeth. For the last minute or so since she'd acquired the instrument, she had started plucking out the same flat chord repeatedly, at intervals of a second or two. It was beginning to grate across his mind. She giggled and stopped the noise.

Genévieve yawned extravagantly, and lay her head on Cer's shoulder. Her eyes closed as his arm found it's way around her smaller form, hugging her close. No one acknowledged this as something out of the ordinary, but I had a hunch as to why I hadn't noticed it before when now it was blindingly obvious. Cer's self-esteem was at rock bottom, and if he was, indeed, courting someone as stunning as Jen, he would probably be nervous around others. Perhaps her parents disapproved of a Half-Elf for their daughter? I felt my jaw clench at the thought. I knew nothing for sure, of course. But I could make a fair assumption on what I'd gleaned from that little display. Jen opened her eyes a crack

  
"It's getting late, we've been here a good three hours." I looked upwards, noting the silky moonlight filter through the canopy. The forest was strangely pleasant in the hours before midnight. The not-quite-twilight dimness gave it a strangely ethereal appearance. The evening mist adding to the effect. I wouldn't be outside in the middle of this forest willingly, but I suspected the situation concerning the infestation of Orcs, Goblins and…spiders had improved greatly with the cleansing of the wood.

"Should we head back?" It was Narin, she too was critically examining the rising moon.

"Might as well." Said Firowen, and for the first time, I noticed that the fighters of the group each carried a long knife, discreetly at their hip. They seemed to rise up as one, each gathering anything of theirs from the little circle.

As in the journey up, the group split off into twos and threes in order to have their own conversations. The hum of several voices was the only noise in the otherwise deathly quiet forest. If only for the irony, I half expected an army of Orcs to come crashing through the underbrush any second now. I was disappointed when the only thing that burst through the trees was a squirrel. Currently, I was engrossed in a conversation with Firowen, Jen and, to my right, Narin. Cer was with Nolad, and Legolas and Tengaar with Celoril. In all actuality, the conversation consisted of me and Narin watching the other two argue playfully.

"Excuse _me_?" Jen, ever the raving feminist, objected. "Care to repeat that to the class?" She indicated us with a nod of her head, her arms firmly crossed over her chest.

"All I'm saying," Firowen repeated, sighing. "Is that all women are born evil. Some just realise their potential later in life than others." I laughed, Narin giggled, Jen glared.

"Aha ha." She added flatly, "_Men_ are all the proof we need that women can take a joke…"

"I'm hurt!" He exclaimed, clutching his heart and turning to Narin for solace, knowing full well he would get none from me. She smiled, unsure, and made to say something, then she stopped and seemed to reconsider.

"Firowen, haven't you learnt a long time ago that you can't win against one, let alone _three_ of us." Jen interjected, seeing her discomfort.

"Alas, 'tis true. And yet you too seem to forget what I keep telling you." He grinned. "The mysterious reason we act so tough and strong on the outside because on the inside, we are scared, weak, and fragile." His shoulders had hunched together, and his hands were drawn together over his heart as he recited this self-evident truth. He straightened. "And the horrifying thing about the mystery of woman is that there isn't one." He was thwacked roughly on the arm for that statement. "What? That wasn't even sexist--ow!" Jen hmph-ed.

"Serves you right."

"The two of you are very violent, you know." I said, adding to the conversation.

"Well that's what I thought, but if Jen's into _that_ sort of thing, then who am I to complain?" The look in Genévieve's eyes was downright bloodthirsty as she lunged at him. Firowen leapt forward just in time to miss, her. She swivelled on her foot and made a grab for his shirt, but was held back by Narin holding on to her wrist like a child clinging on to a parent. The smaller girl was almost dragged forward, her heals digging in to the earth. I stopped myself from laughing, which was rather difficult on this occasion. Just at that moment, Cer came forward, wrapped an arm around her waist as he pulled her gently away from Firowen, and slung her over his shoulder. My mouth opened to say something, but nothing happened. Her hand had just latched onto his shirt, bawling the collar of the fabric in one fist when she was swept clean off her feet. The odd thing was, she didn't seem angry, just surprised as Cer carried on walking as if he wasn't supporting her entire weight on one shoulder.

I saw Celoril crack up into laughter as he watched what was no doubt his suggestion unfold. Jen had given up all thoughts of struggling within the first seven and a half seconds, and was letting herself be carried along like a sack of oats. Her head was propped up on one elbow, which rested on his back. Her eyes were narrowed into oddly feline-like slits at Firowen, who trailed along awkwardly with Narin. 

What had just happened? I had no idea. It seemed like I had so much to learn yet. So much about this strange fellowship of friends. These people were unlike any I'd ever met. They were so blindly accepting. They didn't bat an eyelid at my appearance, my background, my home, anything. They just saw me, who I was now, my personality. I'd never thought I was a particularly easy or pleasant person to talk to, let alone try and befriend, but they had almost forced me into their little social circle. They listened with genuine interest at what I had to say, they were understanding about my reluctance to discuss anything personal with them, they even seemed happy to see me when I crossed paths with them.

For the first time in my long life, I understood what I'd missed out on. I understood why I envied the children playing in the orphanage. They looked my age, but mentally I was far ahead of them. I never fit in around them. If I ever tried to play with them, they'd either comment loudly and rudely, as children are wont, on my hair, or my mother supposedly being evil. There was nothing I could do to avert these rumours. I was just a child to their eyes, and they thought I was just trying to deny it. I aged like a normal human child, but my body aged like that of an elfling. It caused me no end of joy to know I was at least immortal. Although this was soon elevated by the swift discovery that a life without end was a life filled with boredom.

I was a terrible procrastinator. I wanted, no, _needed_ to sail to Valinor. I was growing tired of this world, constantly changing for the worst. I wondered how quickly all memory of Elves would be wiped from the fickle and short-lived memories of Men once the last had departed these shores. I kept telling myself 'Just this one thing. This last accomplishment, this last favour. And then I will go.' The short trip to Rivendell was my absolute last on the list of debts I felt I owed.

Now…I wondered if I really wanted to go so soon. For the first time I felt as if I had something to stay for, small as it was. It was strange to hope, but comforting at the same time that they might miss me. I didn't know why I cared so much. The feeling was alien to me. I wasn't used to people being so kind. It interfered with my set views that I was alone in this world. There was no place for someone like me. I'd pollute the beauty of Lothlorien, invade the calmness of the Dell, outlive the cities of Men. Here…it was hard to say…but I actually, for the first time, felt as if I ,might have belonged.

A.N. Promise, the Aragorn bit will be in the next chapter, as will the tournament thing. As for Tengaar, you'll just have to wait and see what happens to our self-proclaimed Sue.

(P.S. the names Tengaar and Hix (soon) are both from Suikoden II. Great game.)

Reviews: From now on, like the whore I am, I'll only be pissed to reply to constructive criticism, points or questions, because most one-liners don't really need a reply other than 'Thanks.'

Sylvia Viridian: I, too, despise the first chapter. And bits of the second, and mot of the first, etc. Generally because this was started almost a year ago (eek!)

Jmmart11: Yes! I was so afraid no one would get the whole twist thing! I was so pround of that idea. The logistics behind it will be explained in a thing that we have planned called "The Authouresses' apology" featured after the last chappie. And, taking your advice, my neglected coursework is sitting in a corner rotting in its own Evil coursework-y evilness.

" ": cool name. Trust me, it's not sad. I do it _all_ the time. Kind of like when you're searching for a snack in the fridge, find nothing, then look again five minutes later as if something new has perhaps materialised.

Sweet-legolas: Betrothed is like another word for fiancée or bride-to-be, whatever. 


	25. Beginnings

A.N. The usual, only this time it's true. This really _was_ mostly coughed up at 2AM by the fading light of a desk lamp. We have two plausible excuses as to why it's this late. The first: my internet was down. Why couldn't I post it at school? The library? The truth is, I'm lazy. The second, and most important: We've been abso-bloody-lutely euphoric for the past week and a half because: WE MET ELIJAH WOOD, DOM, SEAN A, AND GOT ANDY SERKISS TO TAKE OFF HIS JUMPER!!!!!!!! Alright, calming thoughts (SQUEE!), now that we have the Sueish and amazingly mature octoplets of exclamation marks out of the way, on to the story….

__

"I found the pieces in my hand   
They were always there   
It just took some time to understand   
You gave me words I just can't say   
So if nothing else   
I'll hold on while you drift away   
Cause everything you wanted me to hide   
Is everything that makes me feel alive  
Cities grow   
Rivers flow   
Where you are, I'll never know   
But I'm still here   
If you were right and I was wrong   
Why are you the one that's gone   
I'm still here   
Still here"

__

Vertical Horizon ~ I'm still here

Chapter 24: Beginnings

I yawned widely. It was somewhere between twilight and dawn and already I found myself walking barefoot along the cold, stone corridors of the palace. Not five minutes before hand I had been wrapped up blissfully and sleeping like, well, for lack of a better word, a baby. Why couldn't people just understand that that wasn't a normal occurrence for me? In fact, there were far too many times when I found myself sleeping rough or in a place where not even dust mites cared to take up residence. But for one night I found myself somewhere I thought of as quite safe, with people I knew didn't _completely_ despise me. For once I had relaxed. And now I had been wrenched out of it all by a damn horse!

I yawned again. That's right, no life threatening crisis, no end of the world scenario, just a dumb animal that didn't know how to stay out of trouble. I felt like beating someone or something senseless, but, thankfully, I'd already thought the better of it. However, when a not so bright stable hand paid me the courtesy of awakening me by briskly shaking my shoulder, strangulation _was_ the fist thing on my mind. 

"This had better be good." I said to the elf that had the air of someone in charge. Making it down to the stables in lees then two minutes had been, quite frankly, easy. But the intense cold from both the flagstones and the dew-covered grass had been at such an early hour quite a shock to the system. The fact that I could no longer feel my feet couldn't have been a good sign either. I stood waiting for a reply with a rather awkward looking man in front of me. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes desperately tried to stay fixed on my own instead of wondering to my upper body. I knitted my brow and looked down…and then back up. In hindsight I probably should have put on an extra layer before venturing out. I Looked™ at him and after a few moments of silence, he coughed abruptly before speaking. 

"Um…Milady…" He began somewhat shakily. "We've had a problem with your-"

"Yes, yes, yes, I know that already, get to the point!"

"Well, it's just, we put him out in the paddock along with the other-"

"You didn't put him in with the mares did you?"

"Uh…no-"

"Then what's the matter? He's hardly dangerous."

"Well…you see, we didn't actually put him in with the mares, he just sort of…um, jumped the fence…"

"Oh for the love of..." I sighed, deciding to take an ounce of pity on the man seeing as it wasn't entirely his fault. "Where is he?" The elf looked down a little sheepishly.

"Right this way."

~*~

He had led me out to a spacious area, free of trees and entirely encompassed by high, sturdy looking fences. I practically choked on yet another yawn as I beheld the sight in front of me and scowled. It took me all of ten seconds to march my way across the open field to where the two horses were…well…'doing the deed' to put it rather an eloquently. Four or so stable boys were crowded around looking rather bemused. Every once in a while one of them would try to calm the pair down enough to get close enough to have some chance of stopping them. However, they would only get within a metre or so before Amroth warded them off by neighing noisily or snorting. 

"You horny little bastard!" I yelled at him. His ears twitched and almost immediately his head poked up, though he by no means stopped. "Get the hell off her!" His pace slowed slightly but he didn't completely relent. "Now!" I growled. With some reluctance he got down and slowly trotted up to me, the ring of horrified onlookers breaking to let him through. "Oh no, don't try and be all remorseful now." I said as he knelt down at my feet. From the look of things, the others were taking the rather traumatised mare back to the stables. "Don't expect leniency from me." I glared. He got back up on his hooves and brought his velvety muzzle to my cheek. He nudged it softly before licking it. I sighed deeply. "Why can I never stay mad at you?" I brought my hand up to stroke his forelock, cradling his muzzle in my hands. "Fine, I'll let you off this time, besides, how can I punish you for something that's only in your nature?" I shook my head as I took my hands away from his head. "And you are far too much like your father. Now go on, get out of here." I smacked his rump as he trotted off to the fence and jumped it in one easy leap. I turned around; coming face to face with the elf that had shown me down. He looked somewhat baffled. "What?"

"It's just that most animals respond to us well, but your horse is rather…"

"Rebellious? Stubborn? A pain in the ass?"

"…Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Apparently he takes after his mistress." Silence, he seemed noncommittal, though I suppose it was rather obvious why. "Look, what's your name?"

"Valandil." 

"Okay, Valandil, if he does that…or, for that matter, _anything_ again, just call me straight away, and…thank you." I seemed to be saying that a lot these days. He, nodded and on the way back to the stables I learned that he was going to be an eager competitor in the oncoming tournament. You couldn't blame him for trying…could you? After making it back to the main building of the palace, I quickly found my way into the depths and comfort of sleep…

~*~

…and was so rudely awoken by an overtly soft knock at my door. '_No…not like this._' I prayed it was just my imagination and that no one had the stupid notion of entering into the land of the living. I brought the blanket over my head to try and block out the rays of light peaking through the curtains. It was best not to move any more, it would only make it harder to get back to that lovely state of unconsciousness.

"Yuna?" That voice. I knew whom it belonged to and equally so, I didn't care. No one was going to make me open my eyes. No one. The door clicked open a few inches. "Lady Yunalesca? Are you awake?" With the annoyance of knowing no matter what I did it was doubtful he would simply bugger off, I rolled over to face the doorway, opening my eyes just a crack. 

"I am now…and what have I told you about calling me that." 

"It is your title." He said, fully stepping into the room. Unfortunately, his comment made my brain kick into gear.

"No, don't come in, that's means I'm obligated to sit up and have a relevant conversation."

"Now when have you ever felt the need to have a relevant conversation?"

"Whatever, Mirkwood." He didn't make any other comments, good choice. Instead he walked the space between the doorframe and the double bed, standing at its edge. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, where does a _naïve little elf_ come to know that?" I sat up and leant on the mountain of pillows at piled behind me as I hugged my knees. "There are very few people who know to call me that out of propriety instead of just a courtesy." Legolas smiled slightly, with his hands clasped behind his back he looked like some common wood captain on his first day. "You might as well sit down, somehow I get the impression we have quite a few things to talk about." He did, not far from my feet. 

"First, may I apologise for waking you, it's just that I'm going to be busy later on and I know that you had desired to talk with me." I waved a hand vaguely to dismiss his apology. For some reason, it didn't seem to matter any more. 

"So tell me _Princey_, what have you and that Ranger turned King been gossiping about?"

"Before I answer, may I ask you something? It's just that I am rather curious to know what happened between you and…Elassar" I stared at him a little confused.

"I though that he would have already told you, during the quest…"

"No, I asked him, but he said something about you being a better one to ask."

"Huh? Did he bump his head or something fighting those nasty Orcs? Forgot all about it?" Legolas shrugged.

"That was really all he would say about it."

"Fine, I can't see the harm in satisfying your curiosity, though why _he_ wouldn't have told you I can't imagine. Let me see…" I tugged the blankets round me a little more. "It's hard to say how long ago it happened, maybe thirty five years. He was young." I chuckled mirthlessly. "Cocky. He had gone to Rohan, most probably in an attempt to escape Elrond or maybe he saw it as a chance to better himself. Though then of course, I didn't know who he was. I hadn't been to Rivendell for a while, I had no idea that Elrond was harbouring the heir to the throne of Gondor, and so when a young soldier wondered past Entwood's borders, I was in no mood to grant clemency." I breathed in deeply before carrying on. "It was easy enough to find him, he didn't have half the skills he does now. When I did find him of course, I told him to leave, assuming he didn't know any better and had wondered in there by accident, like many travellers, or, well I suppose you get the idea."

"I do believe I've been in a similar situation."

"Yes, I suppose. In any case he refused, much like you, though I believe he had other intentions. So I tried to escort him rather forcefully out and somehow we both found ourselves with our swords drawn. Unfortunately for him however, he did not have a couple thousand years of practice behind him and so was rather unfairly matched. In fact, it was only really by chance that he managed to inflict this…" I ran my forefinger over the rather faded scar running down the left side of my face. 

"What about Elassar?" 

"Hm, what do you mean?"

"What did you do to him?" I grinned.

"Uh…well, let's just say that the Evenstar has always been annoyed that I took a chunk out of her one and only." He looked rather shocked. "A scar about a foot or so long, across his stomach up to his chest. Although it's probably been healed by that foster father of his. And you know? I'm not going to apologise even if I did leave Aragorn for dead. The fact was he should have known better, and in any case I think I thought him a valuable lesson. "

"And what's that?" Legolas asked, half disbelieving. 

"Don't piss off people that could kill you in the blink of an eye unless you _really _have to." 

"You do realise he hasn't actually kept to that?"

"Oh, I know, but at least I tried." He didn't seem too convinced, but it didn't matter. 

"So, I guess that's what possessed him to hunt down exactly who you were."

"Out for revenge I suppose."

"Indeed, and guess to whom it was he inquired about you?"

"Elrond."

"The Lord of Rivendell was somewhat reluctant to divulge information as to your past, but in the end did, if only to deter Elassar in coming after you, and I suppose it worked." I sighed; it was quiet for a few moments. 

"So, I guess he told you then, about who my mother was. The daughter of an Elf Lord running off with a Gondorian. How utterly scandalous. But that's how I came to be…" Quiet again, but this time the silence was awkward. 

"But -- if you don't mind me asking -- did your mother give up her immortality?" 

"She didn't…unlike myself, a _pheredil_, my mother never had that option…she was pure Elvish. She must have known when she married my father that she would have to live to see him wither and die, and yet…"

"But then…"

"How did she die? " I swallowed the lump in my throat as I finished his question for him. "Grief…grief because for so long she believed my father was coming back after he'd just run off and left us. When he never did, she left me in the care of the Ents and…that was the last time I saw her. But she must have known that someday it would take her, even if my father had stayed. I guess she was in…love. And you know what they say…love is blind." I shook my head vigorously after a moment or two, sending silvery strands spilling down my shoulders. "Anyway, how's the Ranger?"

"He has a lot of responsibility these days…you know, Kingdom to look after, people to reign."

"Poor fool."

"Hmm…" He crinkled his brow in thought. "It's taken its toll on him, giving up everything he had grown so accustomed to. The title of King was one he took upon himself with reluctance. Though it is not because he has the inability to rule wisely, it is just that there are far greater cares and worries that are put on his shoulders now that ever were in the past."

"Apart from being the one of the closest confidants of the saviour of Middle-Earth, then sure." I said, sucking my bottom lip.

"In any case, since he was forced into his destiny it is as if he has lost a part of himself. One which I fear will never return."

"What happened to you after I left? All I got were unconfirmed reports from the Rohhirm every once in a while, and I was rather busy protecting Fangorn…Sauron's forces left nowhere untouched." 

"We won the war, of course." Legolas responded with what I hoped was sarcasm. I glared.

"Don't patronise me, _Elf_."

"It's a very long tale and one for which unfortunately at this moment, I do not have the time."

"Oh, fine." I said, feigning hurt. "Just leave a girl hanging." He raised his eyebrows playfully as a slight smirk played on his lips. I have a sound of outrage, grabbed the nearest pillow and swung it, hitting him square across the face. 

"Hey!"

"Don't act like you didn't deserve that." The archer chuckled. 

"Now, I must get going, Firowen and Jen have already been forced into helping with the preparations for the tournament and I fear if I leave them too long they'll rip each others' heads off."

"Fine, bugger off, blond bint, I don't need you anyway." 

"Seriously, I would stay but they really do need my help." He stood up slowly.

"Never mind. I've got things to do anyway."

"If you say so." He said, definitely sarcasm this time. "I'll see you later, oh, and do remember that it's archery tomorrow." With that he ran for the door, narrowly missing the pillow I'd still had clutched in my hands.

"Wanker!"

~*~

"So…where are we going again?" It was Narin strolling beside me down the cities main street. She'd decided to tag along with me, not wanting to get roped into helping with the decorations that were being put up all over the city. Already I could see multicoloured banners and flags strung between trees, above buildings and on walls. The smell of roasted chestnuts wafted through the air and everywhere the streets seemed to buzz with life. To add to that, mingling in with the usual towns folk were visitors, presumably here to take part in the tournament. There were elves that were definitely not native to Mirkwood, possibly from East Lórien or the remnants of Rivendell, if any did indeed remain. I could also pick out a few humans -not that that was in any way hard- taking in the beauty of the Elven City. So this was a mixed race competition, interesting. It made me wonder if there would be Dwarves. 

"We're going to pick up something I…uh, ordered."

"What's that then?"

"Something I had specially made for the tournament."

"Oh, alright then." She replied as we stepped into a small shop just off the main street. A small bell tinkled as we entered inside. It was dark, even more so compared with the glorious sunshine. All along the walls various types of amour were mounted, faded steel glinting in the pale candlelight. The air was musty with the smell of old leather and also ash, which must have come through from the workshop in the back room. The storefront was tidy, almost overly so and on the main counter one large candle was the source of illumination for the small shop. After a few seconds the elf that was stood behind the counter the candle was placed on turned to face the two of us. 

"Ah, Yunalesca, you are back just in time to-" He stopped short as his eyes came across Narin's small frame. "My Lady, welcome." Gildor said, sketching a bow.

"Please don't, just…" 

"I understand, my Lady." He said, reassuringly. "Now." He turned back to me as if nothing had happened. "Your order is ready, though I have to say it was somewhat difficult to get a hold of everything you wanted." He moved over to the one window of the store and drew open the heavy wooden shutters, moving back to put out the candle.

"Did you have to substitute anything?"

"Yunalesca, don't insult me. They have been made to the exact specifications you required, I even threw in a little extra." After a shadow of a wink, he reached under the counter and brought out a large package wrapped in linen.

  
"How would you like your payment?" I asked, bringing out a small, velvet purse. Thankfully, I had packed it along with the other few possessions Legolas had bought. Gildor waved his hands in dismissal.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Requests for commissioned items have been rare as of late, with the disbanding of the spiders, and your items were a pleasure to make. In any case, I do not do this job for the money, I have enough of it as it is."

"It's your decision, my friend, but…thank you." He handed me the package and with a second thought reached back under the counter.

  
"I thought you might need these." He said, placing a pair of black slippers atop the item already in my hands. "And it was my pleasure."

"Well we must be going. Good day, Gildor."

"Good day, Yunalesca. Lady…Narin, I shall see you at the tournament no doubt." With that we left the little shop and stepped back into harsh daylight. We made our way back to the palace, but now it was far more evident what Narin had spoken of before. Everywhere people hesitated in their tasks as she passed, they said nothing but their eyes studied her every move. I couldn't help wondering if it was like that for the rest of the group, and, if it was, how they'd managed to keep as sane as they had.

~*~

"Do you mind if I…uh…" I trailed off, nodding to the package deposited on the table. We had made our way slowly back to the palace and into my room, neither of us wishing to get involved in setting up for the arrival of guests from all around Middle-Earth. I wanted to try on my clothes before the day, just in case small adjustments had to be made. Presently, Narin and I were in my room, an idle conversation having ended. It took her a moment to realise what I meant, when she did she brushed a hand dismissively.

  
"Go ahead." I gently eased the cloth out from the linen package, admiring the craftsmanship. I unlaced the tight knot on my bodice, slipping out of the confining article. Narin glanced up sharply as I pulled my top up over my stomach. "Wait." I stopped, looking at her, confused. Her eyes narrowed, teeth grit together, fists clenched. She strode purposely over to the door and flung it open, to reveal…

"You little _pervert!_" She yelled, in the most authoritative voice I'd ever heard her use. She grabbed the offender's ear between two fingers with particularly sharp nails and twisted it sharply so his head bent uncomfortably towards the floor. She dragged him in, and an eyebrow shot up. Before me, half-stood, half-hobbled yet another blond-haired, blue-eyed elf, looking as if he hadn't even come of age yet. He reminded me instantly of someone, but I couldn't quite place it. "Just _what _did you think you were doing, hm?"

"I…I…" _twist_ "Ow, ow, ow, ow, okay! Sorry!" She released him, sending him scuttling out the door without a backward glance. Her look of pure bloody vengeance was replaced by one of apologetic pleasantness.

"Um…who was that, exactly?" I asked feebly.

"_That_, if anything happens to Legolas -- Valar forbid -- is the _crown Prince_ of this entire _kingdom._" She scowled, closing the door.

"And why was he…?"

"Hormones."

  
"Ah."

"Well he's only about two hundred, so I suppose I can't really blame him."

"I thought he looked a bit like Legolas."

"Well, he uses that to his advantage, unfortunately." I thought about this for a moment.

"How…interesting."

~*~

I smoothed down the tunic before the full-length mirror.

"Twirl." Came the monosyllabic command from Narin.

"Excuse me?"

"Twirl. You know, spin around." She twiddled her finger to emphasise. I considered how many different ways I could refuse, but for some odd, deranged reason, I decided to indulge her. I pivoted on one foot as I completed a full circle, the front and back of my tunic fanning out. She grinned, cocking her head to one side in thought. "You do realise you're going to be the chief target for slander from the 'ladies' with an outfit like that."  


"What's wrong with it? Am I flashing too much ankle?" I joked.

  
"Well…" she trailed off, a devilish glint in her eyes. I turned back to the mirror, giving myself a once-over. The entire thing was black, aside from the gold laced around the edges and running in veins throughout the top, which I took to be a little something extra from Gildor. My leggings, starting just above my hips, ending just bellow my knee, the ends patterned and ever so slightly wider. My tunic, the hem coming to mid-thigh, was supposedly modest, as the high collar suggested. This illusion was shattered, however, as one caught sight of the laced-up sides, exposing a strip of skin on either one.

"It's not _that_ bad." I protested, feeling very strongly that the nobles from distant lands, and, indeed, from the Wood itself, could use a little shocking.

"I just hope you don't give any hormone-driven youngsters nosebleeds."

"Somehow, I _doubt_ it."

~*~

I couldn't find anyone. It was the day of the tournament and I hadn't a clue where I was meant to go. Great. 

I'd woken up after a rather broken night of sleep. There were pieces of the dreams I'd had still floating around in my head but mostly everything was sketchy. Maybe a face, a colour, a smell, but nothing that made any sense or that I knew I remembered from somewhere else. But right now it was the least of my troubles that I was slightly groggy. I'd already looked everywhere for at least one of the group or even Gem, just someone to say where it was I was supposed to be. On top of that, I was getting a rather wide range of expressions from the servants and general people inhabiting the palace. Was my outfit really _that_ bad?

"Excuse me." I tapped a servant on his shoulder. He seemed rather busy polishing a table to the effect that one could use it as a mirror and so it was some time before he gave a slight nod towards his accomplishment and turned to face me. 

"Gahh!" He voiced as I came into his field of vision. The way he reacted I might as well have been completely stark raving nude. 

"There's no need to be so rude." I said, more than a little hurt. 

"I'm sorry, I just didn't see you there, my apologies." It sounded sincere, best just to check.

"Are you sure there isn't something else?" 

"I…um…don't believe so."

"Completely?"

"…Uh…yes?"

"Entirely?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"Milady," His patience seemed to be wavering "Is there something _you_ think might be wrong?"

"What do you think of what I'm wearing?"

"Well, it's slightly unusual and perhaps a bit on the small side but the detail is quite fetching."

"So you don't think it's…slutish?"

"No."

"Okay…do you know where the beginning of the tournament is being held?"

~*~

What a nice young elf, not only did he tell me where it was he even offered to show me out to the exact spot I had to go in order to start. On top of that he seemed to be very good friends with the guards as he spent a good few minutes after talking to them and once even pointed in my direction. Probably thinks I'm going to win and was making sure that they knew he'd met me and so they'd let him through to congratulate me later on. Very good of him. Oooh, Legolas. 

He was a few metres away talking to some other tall, blond haired, blue eyed elf. I was walking over to him with the intention of scolding him for not having the decency of waiting for me or even telling me where everything was taking place when the very same guards that the young elf had been talking to, came to stand in my way. 

"Can I help you?" I said overly sweetly. 

"I'm afraid that we cannot let you past, milady." Answered the taller of the two.

"I'm sorry? I don't believe I've done anything wrong, I just want to talk to Legolas, so I you really have no right--"

"I assure you, milady, that we have every right to stop you, if we feel that you might pose some threat to the citizens of this city. Even if you _are_ n first name terms with _the Prince."_

"The only people I'll pose a threat to are you two if you don't get out of my bloody way." I said through gritted teeth. They looked at me a moment before both put a hand on one of my unclad shoulders. Bad move. 

"Yuna." It was Legolas coming up behind the two, luckily for them. "What's going on?" 

"Oh, whoops, did I forget to mention I'm a friend of the princes? Must have slipped my mind." They both looked rather crestfallen and embarrassed at the same time as they turned to face the archer. 

"Your majesty…we were…er…just giving this woman directions, she looked… um…lost. Pardon us, and…_sorry_…" With that they walked off at speed and disappeared behind one of the many pavilions. A cluster of them were all situated to our left, twenty or so all of different sizes and designs. A little beyond, there was a large hill that didn't look entirely natural but I couldn't see anywhere past that. All around us, people mingled in the sunshine, talking, laughing, training or just carrying on with some random task. I could even spot a dwarf or two, helmets glinting as they walked about, rather more relaxed then I'd seen one in a long time, at least in an Elven city. 

"What was that about?" Legolas asked after they'd left. I shrugged.

"Misunderstanding."

"Hmm…" He looked me up and down and smiled. "Nice outfit."

"Thank you." 

"So, you ready?"

"Always." With that he offered his arm and even though it went against everything I claimed to stand for, I took it. 

~*~

It turned out that the hill wasn't a hill. In fact it actually turned out to be a massive stadium, the part that I'd seen were the outside walls of which. Inside you could see that it was a semicircular shape and the walls gently sloped down with a miniature terraced effect that I assumed served as a crewed form of seating. Set up on the stadium floor were countless targets already in place for the first stage of the competition that was due to start some time soon. 

We strolled down to where a large number of competitors were stood clustering around an older elf that seemed completely overwhelmed. He was shouting something about forming an orderly line; not that anyone was listening. 

"Excuse me a moment." Legolas said before detaching his arm from mine. He pushed his way into the centre of the group and politely asked for calm. It was no real surprise that he got pretty much the same reaction as the older gentleman, royalty or not. There was only one thing for it. 

"Shut, _up_!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. There was almost instantaneous silence. "Will you all just do as the man says and form a bloody queue or else I doubt any of you will even get a chance to compete!" I shouted after following Legolas through. It still took a while but by the time that the spectators had started pouring into the grandstands most of those around us had been numbered and sent off to their starting positions. 

"Thank you, your majesty." The man bowed slightly in the Prince's direction after which he looked coyly at the list in his hands and addressed me. 

"You, my dear, are number seven hundred and nine. I do believe your group are second. Good luck, the pair of you." With that he toddled off to where another group was eagerly waiting. 

"Seven hundred and nine, just exactly how many people are they're competing? "

"More than you'd think."

"Well, it still doesn't matter."

"What doesn't?"

"Well even if there are that many people, there's still no doubt I'm going to win."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh yeah, and what number are _you_?"

"One." 

"Right. Is that some tradition or something, the number one is always given to royalty."

"No. The number one is always given to last years winner."

"…Ah."

~*~

The tournament started with plenty of fanfare. Trumpets, flags, it seemed a little garish for most elves, but then again these were wood elves. The stadium was obviously full to capacity with every seat filled and those people without one merely choosing to stand. It wasn't really surprising, over the last couple of years people had had nothing to look forward to but war. This was different.

There was obviously a special area for royalty and such with proper chairs and an assortment of refreshments. I could see the three girls all sat together, Jen in emerald green, Narin in soft blue and Tengaar in brilliant white. Thranduil was there in the middle of the royal party, guards on either side of his ornately carved wooden chair that looked rather out of place in this setting. He was talking to one of his advisors but about what I couldn't tell. 

"Hello crumpet." I almost jumped about a metre back as the voice came into my ear. 

"Firowen, what exactly have I told you about sneaking up on people."

"Absolutely nothing." 

"Really?" I crinkled my brow. "Anyway, aren't you meant to be out there." I gestured towards the playing field where the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen was staring intently at his target. 

"_FIRE!_" The command came and not a moment after seventy or so arrows went whizzing towards their targets. Some missed, others hit and in the case of at least one archer, it hit dead centre. '_Figures._'

"I'm not on for another hour or so." He said simply. "Which leaves us with enough time to, you know." He raised his eyebrows playfully. 

"Hmm, I the way I figured it you'd only last five minutes." The elf chuckled.

"Well, maybe if you give me a little incentive."

"Shut up, you poncey twat."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think? I mean, it's not as if your little boy-toy over there would last any longer." He cocked his head over to where Legolas had struck another dead accurate bull's eye. The breath was almost knocked out of me.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" I responded, shocked. "Are you sure you want to be talking about someone who's happily betrothed like that?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it like _that_, but why not?" I was formulating a reply, when his gaze slipped past me. Jen was making frantic hand signals from the royal box to the two of us. "Our plans have sadly been discovered, my dear. Another time?" 

"You wish."

"Yes, and?" I sighed.

"Come on." I said and started pulling him in the direction of the others.

When we got there, Jen explained that she didn't really want anything, she just thought that since we weren't up for another hour or so, we might as well be saved from each other. Those weren't her exact words of course, but that was the general feeling we got.

"So what number are _you?_" I enquired of Firowen, who was standing there watching Legolas with an air of graceful arrogance.

"Two." Jen replied as he opened his mouth. "Every year. Some think it's staged, but I can tell you for a fact it's not. They are, sadly, the best we have in this Valar-forsaken kingdom."

"Cer's always either third or fifth, depending on if the sons of Elrond decide to give it a go." Firowen added with a look in her direction. I smirked. I had met the infamous twins on many a grand occasion. I wondered how the epitome of innocence and sweetness, i.e. Tengaar, could be the product of one of their mischievous and cunning personas. "However, he and the twins -- Nolad and Celoril, I mean -- have decided to forgo their places this year, in favour of a more enjoyable position."

"Being?"

"In the coming events, more than a little outside help is required. Usually, this task is put to off-duty members of the army who are not competing, but it is not uncommon for others to aid them. I remember doing it the first time Legolas won the tournament the year he came of age." He sighed wistfully, sounding almost like a proud father.

"I'm guessing this was not the first victory on his part?"

"Well, many of our more experienced warriors were unable to compete for one reason or another, and he had the best training in the kingdom since a very early age, much like myself."

"And you haven't beat him ever since?" It was more of a statement than an actual question.

"Well, no…" He searched for a comeback. "But that was back when it was only held once every _yén_, but of course we had to change that because a lot of the mortals were, well, _dying_, and we were adamant on letting the humans, particularly from Laketown, prove their worth on more than one occasion."

Idle conversation flitted back and forth between the group for a while, passing the time until our group number was called up, and I was mortified, to say the least, to find that I was in the same group as Firowen, whom of course had known all along. I asked him how this could have happened, and he readily explained yet another aspect of this event.

"You see, it wouldn't be fair to divide the groups up so that the best from the previous tournament were all in one, so instead, the twelve groups have the skill divided equally between them. Legolas is in group one, I, in two with you, and if Cer was competing, he'd be in the third group. Understand?" I nodded, my expression almost humorously deadpan.

"Anyone I should watch out for?" I nodded towards the groups assembled as we made our way towards them.

"See the creature in the brown tunic to the right? Name's [insert]. Nasty piece of work." I scanned the crowd in the direction he was looking.

"Where? Practically all of them are wearing brown tunics."  


"The man over there, with breasts." My eyes widened at the comment, and I indeed took notice of a -- it pained me to say it -- woman whom I'd overlooked as a rather plain man beforehand. My jaw must have hung open ever so slightly, for I felt Firowen's finger push it back up.

"I know."

"That's a woman? I've known some nasty-looking Men, but Valar, that's not right."

"I know that too."

"Look at her arms! They're _covered_ in muscles. And that _face_…"

"Aright, that's quite enough now."

"But--"

"I know."

  
"Is she a good fighter?"

"Decent, by Men's standards. But she's one of those who believe that by acting, dressing and speaking like a man, she'll somehow become better." He sighed dramatically and shook his head. "At least _you_ try to act slightly feminine at times, and I'm _ever_ so glad you don't look like that--ow!"

"As always, you deserved that."

"I'm not sure I did, but in any case, s/he's one to steer clear of, generally because I could barely contain my laughter the first time I spoke with her."

"Do tell."

"I know Men are arrogant, but she seemed to think she was not only the best Man around but also that she could beat the Elves. Needless to say, the ensuing round did not end in her favour." Our group name was bellowed again by an announcer, telling us to take our places. I followed Firowen to collect a bow, and watched the others as they lined up.

There had to be at least seventy or so in my group alone. Over half would leave disappointed, as only four hundred would make it through to the next round, which was as of yet unknown to me.

I spotted Valandil some way to the side, picking nervously at his bow. I grinned, but the look left my face entirely as my eyes passed directly over another group. I pulled my gaze down to inspect the bushel of Dwarves. I wondered how they coped being around so many elves. Personally, I despised Dwarves in the same way I despised Elves. They were at two extremes of culture, but I could easily say I preferred Elves, no matter how aloof to the common people they seemed.

When it was my turn, I received my bow, and my mouth hung open in anguish. To make the contest fair, all the bows were exactly the same. And to make it even _fairer_ on the more microscopic competitors, they were short bows. I only knew how to shoot with deadly accuracy with a crossbow, I only knew how to shoot straight with a longbow, and I only knew how to make things spontaneously combust using a short bow. I mentally and prematurely lamented my loss of the round.

"Don't worry," I heard a familiar voice in my ear, "No one was told they'd be using short bows, even me, and hardly anyone here is proficient enough to knock you out." I glared at Legolas.

"And what score did _you _get, oh Prince?"

"Ten."

"Doomed." I muttered. "I'm doomed."

"You'll be _fine_, just concentrate and remember: a short bow is just like a longbow, just smaller. Don't apply as much pressure and aim slightly higher than you normally would, and you _will be fine_."

  
"Bah."

"It's your turn in any case." He grasped the tip of my bow and guided me along to the target range, where ten others were setting up. "Seven, zero, nine." He casually said to a man carrying a scribe as we mounted the platform.

  
"Why are you here?"

"Because firstly, I can, and secondly, for moral support."

"Great…" I almost felt self-conscious as I readied my bow, before I reminded myself that one as shameless as I should never feel self-conscious.

"Concentrate…" He said, his voice low as he leant unnecessarily close to my ear. I pulled the string taut and concentrated on hitting that one target as close as was physically possible to the centre. And then, things took a rather odd turn for the worst. Just as my brain registered the order to fire, I felt a spurt of warm air dart across the tip of my ear as Legolas blew. I stopped myself from shrieking, but I couldn't stop the involuntary jerk of my muscles, and watched with a half-outraged, half-humiliated expression as the arrow struck the outermost circle.

"You…!" My oh-so-eloquent array of vocabulary was throwing so many random insults, rude names and entirely inappropriate things to say, that I was spoilt for choice, and ended up with nothing but a strong urge to slap away the smug look on his Princely features. I decided, however, that the guards were already keeping a close enough eye on me, and I was better off not sinking to his level and doing something so low as to seek revenge.

On second thought…

"Just you wait." I said, leaning nearer. "Just _wait_. Now why don't you use your authority and sod off?" I smiled as evilly as I could manage without frightening the children from Laketown, and turned back round, notching another arrow. He grinned as he did, indeed, sod off. To about a foot behind me. It would have to do.

The next few minutes passed rather sulkily. My skill with the short bow, as has already been stated and proved on a number of occasions, was not only something not to be shouted about, but more like something to sweep under the proverbial rug of death threats to anything that endangered what shattered reputation I had. I miserably watched as the others up with me hit the centre target time and time again while my arrows skirted around the outside. The crowd had started to murmur amongst themselves. I knew exactly what they were talking about. You always hear of these technicolored visions, with their strange clothes, and strange hair, and strange habits, who came along and stole the entire show from the others. Now, why wasn't I one of them? The people around probably expected some kind of song and dance by the way they were looking at me as I took up the formation.

Pity they would see no such thing.

My last arrow flew majestically through the air, before lading squarely in the third circle. None of my arrows were even close to the centre. I felt like the incredible failure I was. The crowd was still murmuring. I could _hear_ Legolas grinning. What happened next was pure impulsive genius on my part.

I turned to leave, but as soon as I caught sight of the dagger at Legolas' belt, I changed my mind. In one movement, I grabbed it, spun round and threw. Without even looking, I resumed my voyage off the platform, my expression stoic at the crowd's silence after the faint thwack. I knew exactly where it had hit, so it came as no surprise when I briefly glanced to see it buried in the dead centre of the target.

A.N. Cookies and Kudos to everyone who reviewed. Where are you people?! Come on! We need support! It's hard enough to churn out a chapter every week or so without you lovely people giving us feedback!


	26. War

__

"…This is where your sanity gives in  
And love begins  
Never lose your grip  
Don't trip  
Don't fall  
You'll lose it all  
The sweetest way to die  
It lies inside  
You can not hide  
It's the meanest fire  
Oh, it's a strange desire  
You can not lie  
That's a needless fight…"

The Cardigans ~ Paralysed

Chapter 24 (yes, _this_ is chapter 24, not the last one. Sorry): War

"Well, _I_ think you did well." Narin assured me, as we watched the remnants of the contestants fire away.

"I'll be lucky to come five hundredth." I replied flatly.

"Well look at some of them, they don't know one end from the other. I'm sure you'll get through, even if you don't get a particularly high score."

"I wanted to make an impression on the first round. I think I did, but it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for."

"You'll be fine." Legolas had somehow interjected, smoothly gliding alongside us.

"No thanks to _you_." I said through gritted teeth.

"You'll get through, I promise. Half the competitors couldn't even hit the target." He continued as if I hadn't spoken. This surprised me somewhat, to learn that the otherwise dull seeming Legolas had a warped sense of humour.

"What's the next round?" He shrugged.

"No idea. They don't even tell _me_."

"Why?"

"It wouldn't be fair on the others if some knew what to train for when others didn't. Just be ready for anything. It seems they make up new things each time."

"Great." I wanted to bury my head in my hands, but felt I'd shown enough of my weak side for one day.

"You will be _fine_." He assured me once more. "How do you think I've won for the past…?" He thought for a moment. "I forget. But you get the idea." I gave an affirmative murmur.

"It's alright for you. You can always bribe them in to letting you through."

~*~

And ever since I said it, I'd wondered if he did, indeed, bribe one of the scorekeepers into letting me through, because through I went. I was shocked at the announcement, fully prepared instead to crawl under a rock and let the people forget about the rude, unladylike woman whom had infringed on their hospitality. Instinct drew my line of sight to Legolas. If he was looking at me, it would be a sure sign of guilt, but he merely stood, chatting with a random Wood captain, one of his underlings, I assumed, looking as if he hadn't even heard my name come up.

~*~

The defeated had been successfully dismissed, and the time for the second event had come. Of course, none save those directly involved in the organisation knew anything about the nature of the event, and Cer and the twins were steadfast in their oath not to disclose the secrets, although Jen told me to wear something less conspicuous. Not that she disliked my attire, quite the opposite, she was considering making it a new 'thing' at court, shocking feeble-bodied old men with a flash of calve.

We lined up like cattle, all four hundred of us. By the end of today, the number would have been whittled down to three hundred, then two, one, down to fifty, then in tens and fives until only five remained. There were already bets on who would come in the final ten and five, and of course the winner. The favourite was Legolas. And as such, the stakes were rather pathetic if he happened to run off with the title, as he had done on countless past occasions. Both he and Firowen had their own little group of admirers, being possibly the two most popular warriors in the realm, many more senior Elves having passed over the sea.

I looked down the lines of men, the odd woman dotted about, standing ready. I wondered idly if there was anyone here I knew. Most were mortals, albeit, and I doubted many of them would have consented to the long trip to Eryn Lasgalen. The few Elves I kept company with over the years had either been slain, passed over the sea, or, like Gildor, were not competing. But then, as my eyes swivelled over a group of dark-haired Elves, most likely previous denizens of Rivendell, I caught sight of someone. I recognised him, though where he fit in to my many years of existence eluded me.

'_Tillén_'

The name came from nowhere, and left me feeling rather confused. Then it hit me, and a smile that couldn't have been any more evil crept on to my face as I remembered our first and only meeting.

__

'I'm afraid I can not let you pass before you remove your hood and tell me who indeed you are.' How quaint. It must have been one of the first times something able to respond to him had dared to cross the borders. Many of the guards there knew my face, not that I was easy to forget, and let me through without even intentionally making themselves known. So it came as something of a surprise to me when he stopped me. I grinned and made my way through the crowd over to him.

"Hey there." He stopped his conversation with a quartet of similarly coloured and garbed Elves to turn and look at me. A number of expressions passed through his face, the first was confusion, the second was most definitely recognition. He flitted towards fear following great surprise, then slipped into the neutral mask many put up before their superiors in rank, although this was tinged with a hint of pride. He nodded his head politely in acknowledgement, his friends doing the same.

"Greetings milady."

  
"What are you so surprised about? Didn't you think I'd be here?" Of course not, _I_ didn't even think I'd be here.

"Well, to tell the truth, milady, no. I was told you'd gone to Valinor with the Lord Elrond." Now _that_ came as a definite surprise.

__

"Really?" I asked in a dangerously cheerful voice. "How odd. Now tell me, good man, who told you that?" Ah, good, he was reasonably flustered. I still had an uncanny ability to unnerve people.

"Um…a guard of Rivendell, milady. There were rumours floating around that you had departed these shores with Lord Elrond."

"Well I am very much still here, as you can see. Although it was my intention to have left Arda by now, circumstances have meant otherwise. I wonder, could you perhaps tell me the name of this guard?"

"I believe he was called Raumon, milady."

"Raumon, you say? Interesting how he knew what I was supposed to be doing, considering _I_ can't even remember his name."

"Well, you see…"

"Yuna! There you are!" I turned and saw both Legolas and Firowen weaving through the parting the crowd had made for them. I kept my face passive and uncaring that the crown Prince of the country and Wood Captain's son were making their way towards me. I could hear Tillén's jaw drop and snap shut within a second. "Oh, forgive me." Legolas apologised to Tillén as he noticed him and his so far silent companions.

"My lord Prince." He lowered his head and probably would have kneeled were there room in the throng.

"Oh for the Valar's sake, Legolas, stop intimidating the poor man, and tell me what you want." Those behind me almost gasped at my reprimand of the Prince. He leant down and whispered in my ear that Celoril had let slip what we were to be doing, and I should be pleased at what it was.

"Interesting." I said simply, saying a quick farewell to a stunned hexagon of Imladris Elves and following Legolas to the outskirts of the gathering.

"What is it?"

"Being tracked." He said plainly. I couldn't stop the grin from taking over my face.

"You mean all I have to do is sit back up some tree in the Woods, stay quiet while some uninterested, inexperienced 'trackers' try to find me, and wait for the event to be over?"

"I probably should resent that, seeing as it's my army you're talking about, but I don't, considering you're right. They won't be trying too hard, seeing as they're only out catch the first hundred."

"Won't they try to catch all of us?"

"Yes, but the first hundred immediately leave the tournament, after that, the longer it takes you to get caught, the more points you get."

"We get points?" Why did no one tell me things?

"In later events, the competitors with the least number of points are out. And if the winner of the previous round loses the next round, they will still proceed, but they will have to give up every point earned in the previous round. At the moment, I have about fifty, and you have…" He thought for a moment. "About four or five, I'd say." My eyes narrowed.

"Tread carefully, _Elf_." He grinned, then, from somewhere on his person, produced a mossy green cloak, almost an exact match to the foliage of the wood. I examined it critically.

"Thank you. I shall forget this matter. For now." Firowen had remained surprisingly silent for the most part, and soon I saw why. Without Legolas noticing, I followed Firowen's gaze until it rested upon the royal box, where Narin and Jen stood, pointing out familiar faces in the crowd and waving to any who greeted them. I jotted this down mentally, to examine later. "But don't think I've forgotten about that little _thing_ you did during archery. For that, you shall pay dearly."

~*~

I had just found myself a rather good position on probably one of the tallest trees for a good few miles, when I was disturbed by the sound of someone climbing up.

  
"Bugger off, it's taken." I said, in no mood to put up with some random Elf for however long the tournament lasted.

"Is that a fact?" It was Legolas. I leant over the branch to glare at him.

"Why yes it is. Prince or not."

"I'll have you know that this has always been where I wait out these kind of events. By all rights, you're trespassing."

"I've no doubt I am, now don't make me repeat myself again."

"When you think about it--"

"Which I've no desire to."

"--It's really quite a good thing that I'm here." He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "If one of the trackers happens along and thinks there's someone up here, he'll climb up, find me, then that will be it. You'll be safe." I thought about it for a moment.

"Suit yourself, but don't think I won't take full advantage of this fact."

He replied that he was sure I would, and we sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"So when are they going to start looking for us?" I muttered a while later, pulling the cloak tighter around me. I lay on a long, thick branch, wider than my body, as I gazed out over the treetops. Legolas sat, his body pressed against the trunk of the enormous tree, as he, too, waited.

"I know not. Just what you also know. We've been here for just over ten minutes now, I'm sure they'll start soon."

"Mm." I was beginning to fall asleap. The heights never bothered me, and I couldn't count the number of times I'd curled up on a wide branch to sleep. It was comforting, being able to sleep so close to what I loved most yet without any fear of being murdered while I slept.

"At least in this round you'll be able to win back some points. No doubt you'll last longer than anyone else."

"Probably. I doubt any of the competitors, no matter how strong or skilled, have had the hands-on experience of three thousand years hauled up in trees." I squinted. "Look there." I indicated towards a tree bellow us, a good distance off. "I can see three of them already. Do they even realise they're _not_ supposed to get caught?"

"It doesn't seem like it." I yawned, thinking my way through a few random trails of thought for a minute or two. "There." His voice was below a whisper, and I strained my ears to pick up the silent footprints on the forest floor. The trackers were here.

I could hear shouts in the distance, no doubt those already caught. Well I certainly had no intention of doing so. I heard one pass directly under our tree, scanning every inch of forest for a twig out of place. He progressed straight past us, not even stopping for a moment to consider our presence. I looked up to see the others in the tree not far from ours. They were gone. I sighed as softly as I could, and snuggled back into my cloak for a while.

"You don't have to be so quiet, you know." Legolas was now speaking in just above a whisper. "That was the first wave. They'll go through the entire area once, catching out the first hundred, then wait for about an hour before going back. We're safe now, we won't be kicked out this round in any case."

"That was pretty pathetic, if you ask me. He didn't even try to look for us."

"No, we're just that _little bit_ better than the others." I might have laughed, were I not conscious of the fact that I would no doubt be heard through the forest.

"That's true enough." I tried to stifle a yawn but didn't quite manage it. Sleep over the last few days had been patchy at best. "So, I don't mean to pry but I'm getting just slightly bored and…what's up with Jen and Cer? Are they like…you know." I could see the effort on his brow as he tried to consider the implications of the term 'you know'.

"They are seeing each other, if that's what you mean?"

"So why aren't they more…eh…how to put this? More affectionate."

"They are." He said rather hesitant. "As with most things it's rather complicated though." 

"Like how?"

"To begin with, Jen's parents would doubtfully approve of Cer."

"Why? Is he really a horrible flirt and all that strong, _silent_ stuff is all for show?" Did I ever mention I had this vile habit of loving gossip? It was one thing to pick up when you'd travelled as much as I had. The new king of Rohan's inability to perform, the steward of Gondor's daughter running away with a butcher, it kept you going when you couldn't feel your appendages. Besides, most people loved it just as much as I did; it was one of the very few things I had in common with them. In any case, my last comment got a slight chuckle out of the archer. 

"Not unless he's been hiding it from me for the past thousand years."

"What then?"

"If you really want to know, it's because he's a half-elf." Now it seemed his turn to make me confused.

"But, I thought that the Wood Elves didn't hold anything like prejudice against someone…well, that is apart from Dwarves…and Orcs."

"We don't necessarily, I myself do not hold any sort of grievances against a particular race, excluding Orcs and their associates, at least, not since I became aquatinted with Gimli." 

"But."

"But, some do feel that because he has human blood in his veins, it would pollute their line if he were to marry one of their daughters."

"Some how I don't really see that stopping Jen."

"Perhaps, though you have never seen her with her parents. Although she is more then old enough to make her own decisions she cares for them very much and so their opinions still influence her judgement. However, with them it is not simply that Cer might bring human blood into their family, it is more the hardships that they would both have to face because of this that they are worried about." 

"You've had long conversations with the both of them, haven't you."

"How can you tell?" He said, pure sarcasm dripping from his lips. 

"Oh, just a hunch." I stretched rather lazily on my branch. "So how is the dwarf in any case?"

"Good, since I last saw him a few months back."

"You two are actually still on speaking terms?" I said rather surprised. He nodded, though only slightly, anything more would have the alerted keen eyes that were sure to be searching for us. 

"Our friendship grew strong over the time we spent on the quest, he even considered coming to live in Eryn Lasgalen, but had other business to attend to before he could truly make a decision."

"Do you miss him?"

"I know it seems rather foolish, but yes." A smile passed over his features. "I can truly say he is unlike any one I have ever met." A pause and then. "As are you."

"Oh, I already knew that." I said, trying to dismiss his comment. It might have just been my imagination, but it seemed quite heartfelt and, to tell the truth, scared me a little. I searched for another topic but nothing came to mind. Instead I just went for blurting out something randomly passing through my brain. "Narin."

"Hmm…?" 

"Ah, am I the only person who seems to have noticed something between her and Firowen?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." This seemed like something of a de-ja-vu.

"It's obvious they have a thing for each other, yet neither seems willing to act upon it." He shrugged.

"Perhaps they do, I can't say I've noticed." I couldn't stop an eyebrow arching, to me it seemed that someone who was blind, dumb and yes deaf would have noticed the pairs, at times, unsubtle attraction to each other. 

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it then I can't force you." That was a lie, I could. But at this moment I was far too comfortable to make any effort that included moving. It was a while of silence with not a word between us before he spoke up.

"Who was that man you were talking to?" He asked, once again his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why? Jealous?"

"I…don't see why I would I be?"

"Oh, you know, because you secretly love me and want to spend the rest of your days at my side?"

"Ah…no." I shook my head lightly.

"He's just…an old friend, shall we say, more of an acquaintance really but I'm now somewhat sure I've made a lasting impression on him."

"No doubt." There was a slight creek a few metres away. Both of us froze on the spot, hardly a breath between us. The trackers were back. And as easily as blinking something utterly diabolical came to mind. I knew exactly how it was I was going to get him back for the little stunt he'd pulled in archery. He'd even suggested in the first place, who was I not to take up his offer? He was the Prince. Not to would be damn right rude.

I could see our tracker, just slightly. He was definitely better then his predecessors. For one, he seemed to actually be looking for signs of someone hiding in the vicinity, but it also struck me that he looked rather familiar. '_Damn!_' I cursed inwardly. It was Celoril. Still, it didn't really matter; I wasn't the one who was going to get caught. 

I reached out to a large twig just within my reach and tugged hard on it. That definitely caught his attention and Legolas' too. 

"What are you doing?!" He whispered vehemently.

"Teaching you just what happens when you play little tricks on this Lady." I grasped the twig firmly in both hands and started to bend it slowly, agonisingly. 

"Yuna, don't…please."

"Give me one good reason." 

"Because…because…it's not sporting." Celoril was getting close, though he took his time, not wanting to scare his prey. Good. 

"Then what exactly do you call that little stunt you pulled?" 

"Look, I'm sorry but--"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, good bye." With that I applied full pressure. The sound of it snapping brought a look of horror to his eyes. I supposed it was because it was doubtful that he'd ever come in anything less than third in any even for the past two thousand years. Now it would be something like the _hundredth_. 

Celoril moved in, there was nowhere left to run not that it mattered. As I understood it in this game as soon as you were seen it was all over. I pulled the cloak over my head, clung as close as I could to my branch and hoped that was enough to keep him from seeing me. 

"Hello Legolas." I could hear Celoril somewhere around the vast tree roots. "It seems that I've found you, funny that."

"Indeed." The branches creaked as he lazily climbed down the trunk of the enormous oak. "Come on, let's go, I don't think there's anyone else around here. And you can wipe that smirk off your face." After they left I was all alone, just how I liked. Or at least it should have been. Something inside me rather missed my tree mate and I started to regret taking revenge, no matter how sweet it was.

~*~

I woke up to the blowing of a horn, only barely managing to stop myself from dropping off the branch I'd been perched on for what seemed an eternity now, not lastly to my chest. It must have been the morning, though I couldn't remember falling to sleep. It dawned on me slowly, but they seemed to be calling my name. 

"Lady Yunalesca!"

I yawned. '_It must be over._' It took me all of two seconds to get down to the ground where I could see some plebeians walking around aimlessly calling out. 

"Lady Yunal--"

"Hush, man, I'm here." I said, to the closer of the group and began stretching out the cramped muscles in my back. "There's no need to make such a racket." 

"Sorry milady, it's just that we were sent to look for you."

"And to tell you that you'd won." Said the first elves rather over eager looking partner who'd come to join us. 

"Is that so?" I smiled. 

"Yes, milady. All the others were caught in the early hours of this morning." It was another of them; it made me wonder just how many they'd sent out.

"Figures."

"So now you can come back to the city."

"Well, I suppose if I have to." I yawned again. "Now, why don't you lead."

~*~

When I got back I was somewhat surprised to find that Legolas hadn't thrown a hissy fit. In fact he was taking his defeat rather well. There might, I supposed, have been reasons for this; maybe he thought it unfitting for a Prince to behave like that. Or, he might have acted like he didn't seem to mind because he was already plotting his own sweet, black vengeance. One way or another I was determined to find out sooner rather than later. 

"Morning, Narin." I greeted the elf sitting on a bench out in the training grounds. She seemed rather preoccupied. I followed her gaze to where both Legolas and Firowen stood sparing…shirtless. I practically had to stop myself from biting my own tongue as my eyes followed the two as they moved. They were using staffs, with quite expertise I might add, though neither seemed to better the others ability. As they ducked, jumped, blocked, swung, I could see every muscle ripple on the pairs perfectly toned upper bodies. 

Somehow my eyes stopped following the two and merely concentrated on one. His sculpted biceps tensed as he prevented his opponent's staff from connecting with his legs. Instead swinging it up and over his opponent's head to leave him open to further attack. My eyes trailed down to his chest. It wasn't the kind I'd seen on some men, where every single muscle is utterly defined and overly prominent. It was just finely toned and faultless complimentary. I caught myself bending my head to the side and decided that it was probably better to stop staring at him like a starved dog looking at a piece of meat.

"Narin?" I said waving a hand in front of her eyes. 

"Huh." This didn't really seem to stop her. 

"Look, I know you like staring at a half undressed Firowen and everything, but could I at least get a hint of recognition?" She turned to me and sighed, realising she was defeated and had been found out.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Let's just say The horn of Hammerhand is more subtle."

"Horn of what?"

"Never mind. Come on." I lifted her elbow up and led her towards the library. 

"You won't tell him, will you?" She sounded almost frightened.

"Not if you don't want me to." I said first, so as to reassure her. "But as the quickest way to a man's heart is through his chest, you _do_ have to tell him."

"I can't! It would ruin whatever it is we already have, and it would make things so uncomfortable." She broke eye contact and stared at the floor.

"What, are you scared he'll reject you?" I asked, unbelieving. She nodded, finding this to be the obvious conclusion. "Why do you think that? What has he _ever_ done to make it seem as if he doesn't like you?" A pause.

"More like what he _hasn't_ done." She sighed again. "You know first hand what he's like around women. He flirted with you more than anyone else when you first got here." There was the smallest hint of bitterness in her tone. "He never even _looks_ at me like that." My mouth must have opened slightly. "What is it?"

"Do you really think that? He doesn't look at you like a piece of meat, therefore you _must_ hold no interest for him?" We reached the library, she pushed the door open and quickly glanced around to make sure no one was there.

"Well it's not like I've much experience in that area is it?"

"Listen. What if I told you that I knew for a _fact_ that he thought about you a lot. What would you say to that?" Her features softened.

"It'll never happen, so there's no point in thinking about it." She sounded unconvinced, even to me.

"Narin, name me _one_ reason why he wouldn't be interested in you?" She thought for a moment.

  
"Look at me, I'm not exactly the prize pick." I scoffed.

"Pardon me, but have you ever actually _looked_ at some of the women in the city? You are _beautiful_. Say it enough and you'll start realising it." She looked down.

"What about Jen? She's lovely, she's witty, she's so confident and full of things to say. And I'm just plain, booky, boring Narin."

"Have you been listening to me at all?" I sighed, feeling exasperated with her constant low self-esteem, when she had no reason at all to think so. "You are a daughter Lord Elrond would be envious of. You're beautiful, and you're far wittier than Jen, like me, she just uses sarcasm and rudeness as a substitute for real wit. On top of that, did you ever stop to consider that someone like Firowen might want someone like you to balance out his...illustrative personality?" She was silent. I let my eyes travel around the dark room, waiting for her to arrive at a conclusion.

My eye caught on a largish family portrait, and I found it odd that I hadn't noticed it before. I recognised Thranduil immediately, and reasoned that the flaxen-haired beauty beside him must have been his wife. I saw a much younger Legolas, and I found myself wondering how old the portrait must have been. Next to him, sitting down, was a young elfling. A stubborn yet patient expression was on her face, a powder-blue frock billowing around her ankles, and features that immediately put me in mind of someone.

"Don't look at that." Narin said, groaning. "It was done about two thousand years ago, probably a bit more. It's a shame the paint hasn't already pealed off."

  
"Why? I think it's sweet." Total lie, of course. "And the little girl looks like you, without the puffy layers of petticoats, though." I wondered why I hadn't already met the princess, and where she was, before it struck me.

"Yes, well, thankfully I grew out of that hideous thing rather quickly." Shit. I had done countless things I wouldn't have done if I knew that Narin was, in fact, the King's daughter. Shit. "What's wrong?" I must have blanched.

"Nothing. Nothing at all, your highness." I threw in the title just so I could see the reaction.

"Oh don't start. It's taken me this long to get the courtiers and common people alike to call me 'My Lady' instead of 'Princess' or something equally sinister. I've got a few thousand years to go before I can get them to call me 'Narin' like you do."

"I think I know what you mean. But I won't even try to completely empathise, its not as if I have a horde of bodyguards wishing to accompany me every time I walk out the door."

"Precisely," She sighed. "But I guess there's really not much I can do other than get people to just relax when I'm around. But even that seems to be completely out of the question with most." She sighed. "I hate etiquette."

"Well, let's say we forget it for now and see what we can do about this _man_ trouble you've been having."

"What do you mean?" She said, a look of terror gripping her delicate features.

"Don't worry, I won't tell him or anything, I'll just show you how to do a little harmless flirting." By harmless of course I meant shameless, but she didn't have to know that.

"I…suppose." She replied weakly.

"Come on." I said grabbing her hand and heading out of the library and back to the training grounds. When we got there it was obvious the fight was over. The two blondes were sitting on the bench me and Narin had once been sat on and seemed rather spent. 

"Mirkwood." I addressed Legolas however both looked up. "No, not you." I gestured in Firowen's direction.

"Hmm?" Legolas voiced.

"It seems I won." 

"It was only one game." He answered calmly.

"Perhaps, but undoubtedly the first of many." 

"If you say so." He said annoyingly even-tempered. "Even though it'll be hard to cheat on all of the trials."

"I didn't cheat!...well, maybe I did, but you did it first."

"You'd think these two were five-year-olds." Firowen broke in lazily. "Well, I for one would just love to stay around and see how this all pans out but unfortunately I have better things to do before the next event starts. And I'm sure Narin does too." He said, getting up from the bench and standing next to her.

"Oh, um, yes." She said, caught off guard. He offered his arm, which she took gingerly, probably for the fact that he was still missing his shirt, and they went off in the direction of the main building. 

"As I was saying, it was you that provoked such an action, if you hadn't…distracted me in archery, I wouldn't have let Nolad catch you. Well, I would have _let_ him, but I wouldn't be entirely to blame."

"Well, if that's the case then I suggest we call a truce." It seemed the best course of action.

"Fine. Truce it is."

"Or." He said after a moment. "We could make a bet."

"What kind of bet?" I asked suspiciously.

"Just a bet. Let's say if I win the tournament, you have to, oh, I don't know, let's say wear a dress at the closing festivities."

"And if I win."

"I'll give you archery lessons." 

"Oh, haha." I replied flatly. "No, I've something rather more interesting in mind."

"Go on." He said, as if daring me to do my worst. Who was I not to?

"If I win, you have to, oh, I don't know, propose your undying love to Firowen in front of everyone at the closing festivities. And I don't mean just say you love him, I mean down on one knee, singing songs, reciting poems, the lot, and you can't tell him about it before hand. Understood."

"I suppose, though it's a rather unfair deal." 

"Oh, trust me, seeing me in a…_dress_, is a once in a millennia experience. I've never worn one before and have no intention to any time in the near future. So if you're really set on it, I suggest you try your hardest, not that it'll really matter."

"So confident, so naïve." He breathed in deeply and stood up from the bench. "Fair enough, we have a deal." We shook on it, both with equally cocky grins on our faces. "But no cheating of any kind on either sides or it's off, agreed?"

"But of course." I said with mock horror. "I would never even dream of it."

"Oh yes. How could I be so absurd?"

"Indeed." A thought struck me; I was meant to be teaching Narin something, wasn't I? If I hurried there might still be time. "Come on. Let's catch up to Firowen, you can brag about the dress part at least." He chuckled before we both broke into a sprint, heading after the two. It wasn't long before I spotted them walking down a narrow corridor that led around the palaces outer rock face. 

Legolas must have been slightly fatigued by his early exertion as he was trailing some way behind myself. However, just when I was nearing the couple I noticed him gaining speed until he passed me in the confined space. I wasn't about to stand for that. He reached them a few seconds ahead of me and slowed to Narin and Firowen's pace. When I got to them I neither stopped nor slowed down. Instead, I stretched out my hand; hit the Prince's backside as hard as I could and just kept going. When I was a few metres ahead I turned around to see a suitable look of terror on his face and just for added shock value I stuck my tongue out at him before turning and running all the harder. 

I could hear Firowen laughing as I ducked into a side door. A woman must have inhabited the room I'd entered, unless it was a man with very serious issues. Over almost inch of surface in the room were vases filled with flowers of all descriptions, little engraved boxes, many of wood but others of what looked like silver or gold, and other small trinkets of Elven design. Draped on the walls were large pieces of material, obviously to cover up the bare stone that they were made of and to make the room seem warmer. 

The centrepiece of the room was the large, pine, four poster bed that had something like chiffon hanging down from it. There was a balcony, as with my room. My heart skipped a beat. Standing out on it was two figures. One tall and definitely built, the other smaller, petite, both had full heads of curling locks. Jen and Cer. They stood, just enjoying the sunshine, wrapped in each other's arms. I felt like I was intruding on something far too precious to be interrupted. It probably was. I got out of the room as fast as I could, hopping they hadn't noticed my entrance or exit. 

~*~ 

It was the next day that I saw the two again. They said nothing if indeed they had seen me in what I strongly suspected and for Cer's sake hoped had been Jen's room. The tournament had once again resumed, this time with something I was rather good at: sword fighting. Once again they gave us all the same uniformed weapon, though there was the choice between a long and a short sword this time. I took my weapon of choice; a long sword that looked like it might just do some damage, and started practising, not that I really needed it. 

I passed most of the day either talking to one of the group that I had become surprisingly close to in the short time I'd been in Eryn Lasgalen or watching one of the many fights that were going on. We were once again in the stadium though this time there were several smaller rings set up so that various matches could be held at any given time. 

I glanced at the board where the matches were plotted out, names being added every minute or so. From the way things panned out, it looked as if I would inevitably be fighting Firowen if I wanted to come out on top in my group. There was only one fight for me beforehand, as there was not many from our group left after the previous event. I knew from observation that he was a very good sword fighter, and he would give me something of a hard time. Of course I would emerge victorious in the end, it would just take a while for me to beat him. However, the first event had left me with something of a bruised ego, and although my winning the previous round was a little boost, I wanted to fully prove myself. I didn't know why. Normally I didn't care, but I felt an urge to be hailed as what I was, a good fighter. Now, how would I win this fight with as much flair as possible?

Like all good fighters, before a match, he would watch his opponent's technique, their style and moves to watch out for. I only had one fight, and it was the first time he'd seen me with any kind of blade. There was no doubt in my mind that he would use the opportunity to find out as much as he could. Since I enjoyed confusing him so much, I'd take advantage of the opportunity, and fight not with my right, but with my _left_ hand. I learnt to fight with two blades, and, as a result, learnt to be ambidextrous, though I still favoured my right by far. If he saw me fighting with my left hand, he'd be drawing up strategies for entirely the wrong side. If I switched hands as soon as he got serious, he'd probably go cross-eyed.

I was on late, something about my group having the highest amount of people having left in the last round. So mostly I just sat around with Firowen and we pointed out flaws in the fighter's techniques that we were watching. He was rather amused about the goings on of the previous day and had made some comment or other about how I was coming out of my shell. I dismissed it quickly.

After another half-hour or so of scrutinising other fighters, my name was called and I headed towards the ring directly in front of the royal box, where Narin and Jen were standing whooping and shouting random things at the competitors. I saw Thranduil sitting back in his chair, eyes like a hawk gliding over the assembled mass of people. I was quickly informed by a holler of my name that Jen had seen me, and I nodded, grinning, in her direction. I sized up my opponent. A human, a little shorter than me, in garb that reminded me instantly of a Northern Ranger. He held his short sword rather tightly, and I could tell immediately from his stance that he was a bad attacker, and this would be a case of him trying to tire me by defending out so he could use a weaker move to defeat me.

A judge announced the start of the fight, and I lunged, my sword comfortably in my left hand. He was expecting this, and I had to admit he did have a very sturdy block. I jumped back, and swiped low, high, mid-section. Aggressiveness was the key. If he thought I was getting tired, he'd let his guard down, and I could easily slip past it. Four more depressingly, yet intentionally, clumsy swipes on my part, and I was able to get one, two and three solid hits, the third knocking his blade clear out of the circle. I heard a girlish whoop to the side, and the sound of Narin laughing as the fight was announced over in my favour. It wasn't even a close match.

Sure enough, as I shook hands and left the ring, there was Firowen, mentally taking notes. He had one fight as well, directly after mine. I swapped places with him, and watched as he fought a guard from East Lórien. He fought almost exactly like Legolas. Smooth, yet with an underlying strength. The guard was good, but not good enough. He was soon taken down as a long sword pressed to his throat. I knew how Legolas fought, and that fact made the ensuing battle that little bit easier.

~*~

"So you're…going to start some time soon...?" I asked. The fight had been started officially about twenty seconds ago, and since then we had done nothing but circle each other A crowd had gathered, ours being one of the most interesting fights of the day. The main superpowers of the tournament were spread out throughout the groups and therefore were not fighting each other. Word had reached the ears of the population that I had greater skill with a sword than perhaps even the Prince. No, that can't be right, can it? Surely not, he's the Prince; after all, no one can beat him. Even his father? Well, obviously his father could. So someone _can_ beat the Prince? Yes, but not her. But still. Should we go see? Lets.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Ladies first." Came the frank reply from Firowen.

"So you _are_ planning on starting?" I shot back. He grinned.

"How about 'now,' is that good for you?"

"Sounds alright."

"So 'now' it is?"

"Now."

"Now." And with that a cheer erupted from the crowd as our swords clanged together. "Let's give them a show, shall we?" He said as we leaned in to up the force of our side.

"Let's." I wanted him to think I was using my best strategies early on, so I pulled a few showy moves to get the crowd pulsing with excitement. I swiped at his head with my blade still happy in my left hand, then aimed a low roundabout swipe with my leg at his feet. I launched into a flurry of attacks, turning this way and that as I slashed at him again and again. He had a solid defence, one that was increasingly hard to penetrate as the strength increased. He started to fight back, and I found myself blocking a perfectly executed combination of moves. The whistle of blades was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

My wrist was failing under the force of his attacks. It was no where near as trained as the other, and I found myself not able to fully stop his swipes, and I was forced to parry them to one side. After a particularly powerful one, I felt my wrist giving way, and it started to shake slightly. He must have seen this, for he asked with a cocky grin:

"Give up yet?" I gave a slow smile.

"Never." I pushed the blade of my sword up towards him, forcing him back. With as mush flourish as I could muster without turning into my opponent, I threw my sword up, spun round once as I stepped forward, and grabbed it with my right hand, starting to attack as soon as it was in my grip. He opened his mouth slightly, but gritted his teeth together quickly in effort as my sword crashed down on top of his with more strength then he evidently expected I had. He was being forced back, and was barely managing to stay in the ring as he searched for a way to break the onslaught of attacks. We sparred back and forth for a while, the audience loving every second of it.

Soon, I tired of the constant lateral motion. His expertise lay with twin daggers, and his skills were merely being borrowed and adapted to fight with the sword. I had spent my whole life using a long sword, and it shone through in the finishing move. I forced his blade over to his right in a parry, then spun in so I shoved him backwards, grabbed the hilt out of his hand and into my left, then ducked under his arm to point both tips at him. The match was over as suddenly as it had begun. He burst out laughing, and the cheers rising up around the ring were almost deafening. I saw Narin half-smiling, Jen utterly ecstatic, and Thranduil eyeing me thoughtfully. Firowen came up behind me and said in a low voice something about slinking away shamefully at his humiliating defeat at the hands of a misanthropic half-elf. I tried to elbow him in the gut, but he was too fast and had already woven through the crowd.

There was another match going on at the time, the last one. The mass of spectators drew their attention toward the ring for the start of the fight. I wandered over, handing the two swords to a random, uniformed Elf.

And then I saw him. Tall, lithe yet with a strong build and the promise of substantial strength. He seemed to take charge over the area as he moved like a panther stalking its prey towards the circle. His jet-black hair spilt over his shoulders, framing a face that was oddly defined and handsome for a human. Everything about him, from his confidant and unwavering stride to his black-rimmed, mahogany eyes, radiated power. He reminded me instantly of a double-edged sword, spinning so fast around that it appears as if the blade isn't even there, but if you got too close…

He took up an unusual stance, one I'd never seen before. The Elf he was up against looked confused. Well, to the untrained eye, he was perfectly stoical, yet I could pick out the perplexed look in his eyes. A human almost immediately equalled an easy win, but this human didn't look like the type to be easily beaten. The battle begun, and ended almost as swiftly. I felt the crowd go silent. I was thankful for the fact I hadn't blinked, as it allowed me to see what he managed to do to get his opponent out of the ring in, well, the blink of an eye.

I saw his muscles tense, just along the line of his jaw, a second before the fight was started. By the time the Elf had registered what to do, the Man had already charged, his two-handed sword drawn back, before slamming across the Elf's, driving forward and allowing the momentum to do the rest. It was nothing fancy, but the job was done quick. He left the circle as soon as the announcer declared the fight over. My gaze followed him down the parting the crowd assembled had created. Before disappearing, however, his head turned, and in an instant, his eyes locked with mine. I inhaled sharply, my body involuntarily tensing up. I struggled to hold his stare, though his eyes chilled me to the bone. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he turned back and left, not gifting a single person more with a glance.

A.N. Lefty/righty strategy plagiarised shamelessly from Anime Animal's Zelda (OOT) ficlet 'The Hyrule Tournament'

Okay, so once again this chappy is a little late, but hey, 18 pages ain't bad. Besides we've had major amounts of school to cope with so getting through this has been a little tough. But I bet you liked the bit with where Yuna smacked Leggie's ass didn't you, somewhat unexpected which just makes it all the more sweet. And besides, you'd probably do the same if you were in her position, okay so maybe you wouldn't but I would. But anyway, finally, after 24 long chapters, our dear ice queen is emerging from her shell. What happens next? Read and see. 

P.S. See that little button down there? It tells us you love us and that this isn't just for the benefit of our two crazed imaginations. So just click it and see what happens. 


	27. Disillusioned

A.N. WARNING! EPIC A/N! WARNING!

Finally! As depicted in the previous interlude, we are sincerely apologetic for not having this done sooner. On the plus side, we now are the proud owners of a TTT extended DVD, and suddenly have a great desire to re-write the entire second section of the fic. But we'll save that for when we aren't in severe chapter-debt. Any Linkin Park and/or LostProphets fans may officially hate us now, as we scored a front-row square foot of concrete to stand on at their Concert in Wembley, London, on the 22nd. Yay. Also, Karl Urban fans might like to know that he winked and waved at me (Rai) and was about to sign my book but then didn't because he had to go back inside at the London Premiere and Tali also saw (and touched, squee.) Billy, Dom, Viggo, Bernard (Hill, Théoden), Ian (Holm, Bilbo) and Andy (Serkis, Voice/motion capture of Gollum)! Also, we have seen ROTK twice, and cried throughout the final hour BOTH times. WATCH IT!!!!!

Another little note: We realise that for the time being the events will jump around a bit. We're sorry for not writing about every single thing that happens in the days between the contests. Don't worry, it'll only last 'til chapter 28, when the tournament officially finishes, and it starts getting all dramatic and…um…heated?

The man of the month is: Chester Bennington.

Chapter dedicated to: 'Michelle' for being such a last-minute inspiration on the review board. (Yes this is just shameless whoring of the review system. Leave a nice review and the next chapter could be dedicated to you!)

__

"…Forfeit the game,

Before somebody else

Takes you out of the frame

Puts your name to shame

Cover up your face

You can't run the race

The pace is too fast you just won't last…

…Forfeit the game

'Cos tomorrow

When it's all done

You reap what you sow…"

Linkin Park ~ Points of Authority

Chapter Twenty Five: Disillusioned

"You won't be able to do _that_! I doubt even Legolas could reach the fifty feet mark in under a minute!"

"Oh really? Wanna bet?"

He thought for a while. "No. You don't have to see the future to know I'd lose."

We were outside the stadium again, pale golden light shining down on the crowds gathered in the grandstands. In place of the last day's rather miniature events, poles the size of slim tree trunks stretched away into the sky. Each was approximately twenty feet high, with a distance of a couple of metres in between them. Attached to the top of each was a little horn, the saviour of whoever managed to get to the top and stay there long enough to blow it.

At the rear of a surprisingly orderly queue of competitors, stood Firowen and I, watching those ahead of us as they made their attempt at reaching the top of the pole in the least amount of time possible. At the moment, a shortish human scrambled up the vertical climb. With all limbs firmly hugging the surface, he made good time reaching the top of the pole in probably less than a minute. Though nothing record breaking, it won him the preliminary heat.

"He's good." Firowen mused.

"Better than the Dwarves, anyway." I nodded as the high-pitched blare rang out through the stadium.

"Good lungs, too." The Elf wiggled a little finger in one ear, trying to get his hearing back. The losers allowed themselves to slide down, the more sporting of them shaking hands with the winner on their way out, and complimenting him.

Our group was the last to be pulled, hence our current status in the back of the queue. There were three out of thirteen groups of fifteen left. Legolas' was up next. After him, there was…that man. I didn't know who he was, but I felt I should, somehow. He was only a short way ahead of us. I could see his dark hair stand out against that of the Eryn Lasgalen Elves'. He turned about, and I saw his face up close as he told his name to one beside him. He had a deep voice, with no trace of an accent, which only made him seem odder. His face was unlined, yet chiselled. His inky hair thick and straight, reaching just past his wide shoulders. He had a strangely worn look about him, heavy and definitely muscular, but smooth like flat of a well-polished sword.

"Know him?" I was snapped out of my absorption by Firowen. I shook my head.

"Who is he?"

"Haven't a clue. No one knows who he is. I can't remember his name, but I remember it didn't sound quite normal." The female population of the crowd exploded as their Prince strode out onto the grass with the air of one who is fully aware of the effect he has on those around him. "This should be good."

I had a good view of the area, and leant over the three-foot fence sealing us off from them. Legolas took his position. They weren't given anything to help them climb, and had to rely entirely on their own prowess in that field. Perhaps that was why so many of them were falling off. Not the Prince, however. He took in the competitors, head held high, before steeling himself at the base of the pole. A horn was blown to begin the event. He shot up the pole, his arms and legs wrapping around and propelling him upward in a matter of seconds. The cheers were deafening as he reached the top in about forty seconds and blew the horn. I watched him critically just as I did the others. Despite being in such an environment, even the Elves didn't seem entirely at home with climbing the smooth, branchless poles. The best were those left from Lórien, as the poles cannot have been hard to climb next to their giant Mallorns.

The next group went forward in a similar fashion. A tall, flaxen-haired Elf was the winner, to my own surprise. The Man only came in at third, meaning he was assured to go through, but not to the finals of the round to see who gained the most points. The Elf was incredibly quick, and I learnt later on that this had been one of the most highly regarded border guards of Lórien. The Man was clearly not in his element. He was not used to climbing, and only made up for this with his lightning speed.

We were up next. I shot a sidelong look to Firowen, who grinned in reply as we were shown to our poles. His was right next to mine, and mine was directly in front of the royal box. I turned for the briefest moment to see Jen's hand oscillating wildly in something which might have passed as a wave. Narin, however, was looking a few metres to my right. I didn't have time to follow her gaze, as we were called to ready ourselves. I took a deep breath and remembered the countless days spent in the treetops of Fangorn. The horn blew, and within exactly twenty-five seconds, blew again. I heard a gasp ring out through the crowd. Firowen was the favourite to win this round, and he was not yet halfway up. Few, if any, knew of my background, and assumed I was from Lórien or a random village near the Redhorn pass. None had expected me to be able to break the record set many years before.

The finals were being set up, and I lined up obediently next to the thirteen finalists. There was Legolas and the border guard just in front of me, and the other ten I had seen, but did not know. The Prince turned to speak to me as the fifty foot poles were erected.

"How did you…?"

"Secret. One I'm not going to tell you because I intend to win this round."

"What makes you think you're going to do that?" I gave him a disbelieving Look™ and sniggered.

"Because first of all, I've done this my entire life for the past three millennia. Secondly, I've no intention of letting anyone here but myself win."

"And what if I told you that I could go a lot faster, and I was, in fact, holding back to throw you off." I regarded him for a moment, before allowing a grin to seep across my face.

"I'd laugh at you."

  
"And why is that?" He asked after a while.

"Because so was I." And that was the last thing either of us said before our names were announced and we took our places. It started all too quickly, and there was the short sound of four pairs of feet scraping across the ground before grabbing the pole. I simply leapt straight on, my legs heaving me up, my arms grabbing the section a foot above. I was halfway up within the first fifteen seconds. I cast my eyes downward for a fleeting moment. But it was long enough to exchange glances with a certain Elven Princeling whom was eating my proverbial dust. A few deep breaths later. One more clench of the quadriceps, lugging my body up the pole. I stretched and reached, my fingertips grasping the horn. I brought it to my lips and squeezed every ounce of air I had in my lungs into the noise that followed. 

My muscles relaxed before I could stop them, and I felt myself falling. There was a joint intake of breath that snapped me back to reality. I tightened my grip and a few friction burns later, I stopped a few inches from the ground. I hopped off, throwing a triumphant look to Legolas, before confirming my name and striding out of the stadium.

~*~

"Wait…a _fan_ club? Did I hear you correctly?"

"Well that's what I heard." She said with a cock of her head.

I was beginning to like Gem. She was a constant source of gossip, and always had some new rumour about me to share. When I asked her how she found things out, she replied that no one really noticed her because of her size. Only she said it as if it was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Now she told me that she had caught wind of more than a couple of bets on me, and, strangely enough, a group of eager elves, just having come of age, asking if I was inside outside the palace gates. My right eyebrow had got quite a workout since the morning.

"Well isn't that odd…" I mused.

"Not really when you think about it." Gem said thoughtfully, leaving her load of towels on a chair and clambering up on the bad to sit next to me. "Everyone's used to Legolas winning and so on by now. You, a new face -- and _what_ a face at that! -- attract more interest than the Prince showing his pretty head a couple more days a year." I formulated a comment, but was cut off before I got out a word. "It's only natural that most of your fans are the more boyish girls and the older boys." Seeing my look, a mixture of confusion and outright disagreement, she continued, delving deeper into the matter. "The girls see you as an icon for feminism." I laughed. Surely I was the last person anyone would wish to have as a role-model. "Many of them desire to be warriors, but are either too shy or too afraid of the consequences and social ostracism to admit it, yet alone act upon their desires." I furrowed my brow. For a hobbit, Gem could be surprisingly insightful. "And the boys, well…"

"Don't even _try_ to tell me what I know you're going to--"

"But it's true! They see you, a woman, as a renown warrior, and are attracted not only to you, but to the power you seem to have."

"But there are other women in the tournament! Why don't they have groupies!"

"Because, but for a pair of misshapen breasts, they are practically men! You, face it, are striking."

"Well I knew _that_…"

"In a _good_ way. You're attractive, and, even though you may be a little rough around the edges, feminine." This was strange. The last person who told me I was fair was a drunk on the streets of Minas Tirth. I had always known that you could either be a beautiful courtesan, or a warrior. I chose the harder path, and accepted a long time ago that I would never be thought of as beautiful and would never find anything even resembling love. I wasn't sure I appreciated everything I thought I knew about myself turned over in front of my eyes. And that was happening an awful lot these days…

"She's right, you know." I looked up to see Jen standing at the doorway, smiling wryly. I glared.

"Don't _you_ start." She giggled in a way that could only be described as _prettily_.

"Anyway, what did I come here for…oh yes! I got Cer to tell me what the next event is!" I processed this for a moment, not even questioning her apparently dominant relationship with someone almost twice her size.

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but why aren't you going straight to Legolas with this? Unless you already have, of course."

"Legolas? Why would I do that? I don't want _him_ to win again. I certainly don't want to know what would happen if Firowen won, and Cer and my brother's aren't competing…so I want you to win."

  
"You found out about the bet, didn't you?" She hung her head.

"Yes."

"Not that I blame you. I can't say I wouldn't climb over whoever it takes to see that." She giggled again.

"Anyway. Want to know what the next event is?" Gem made herself inconspicuous. I wondered if Jen noticed her as she was behind the bed pretending to sort something out.

"Go ahead."

"Well, it sounded a little weird when he first told me, but I'm sure you can form a better mental picture than I can. It's basically a perfectly round, smooth wooden rod suspended a variable height above the ground by these two other poles."

"Variable to what?"

"The person's height. It's designed so that the competitor sort of hangs from the wooden rod by their arms. The pole is just low enough so their feet touch the ground."

"A test of strength." I mused.

"Exactly. The timer starts as soon as your feet leave the ground, and stops when they come into contact again."

"So as soon as you either fall off or your arms give in, basically."

"That's the general idea, yes. Sounds rather brutal."

"Yes, well, they're eliminating half the competitors In this round. Then it'll be down to a hundred. _That's_ when it gets brutal."

"Cer'd win it." She added offhandedly.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You've seen him, right? Trust me, those arms are _not_ just for show. He can lift me clean off my feet without breaking a sweat!" I raised an eyebrow again.

"How…interesting. Anyway, did he say anything about the reason for the event?"

"Well…what do you mean?"

"Think about it. All the other events have been outright tests of skill, why should this one be so different? If I had to guess, I'd say it was to do with the favouring of Elvish skills over the other races'." I paused in thought. "Climbing, hiding and archery are not considered the main strong points for Mortals, however you look at it. Sword fighting, perhaps. But if there's anything the Humans have, it's raw strength. Maybe this is Thranduil's way of levelling the playing field."

"Probably." Jen replied, noncommittally. "Anyway, I'd better be going. Make sure you don't tell anyone. I already promised not to tell Legolas, or Firowen or any of the other _guys _in the tournament. As I think we've firmly established, that means I'm fully entitled to tell _you_. If he asks, we never had this conversation." With a wink, she swept out of the room, her loose, golden curls waving behind her. That was one of the few advantages of long, trailing dresses. They were good for sweeping out dramatically.

"Well I'm glad you've got an advantage." Came the strong shire accent of Gem as she reappeared beside me. "You'll win and show those boys, eh Lady Yuna?"

"Er…yes, of course…" I didn't like being confused. But it just happened to be one of those many things that just seemed to happen a lot more often in the wood of Eryn Lasgalen.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

I knocked on her door, still not having changed my clothes from the competition. The throbbing in my arms had soothed somewhat, since I was of the first competitors and had plenty of time to recuperate. I was worried for her, however. I was not the only one to see the split-second muffled gasp of pain just before she dropped and crouched, gulping in air, on the earth. I saw the way she gripped her left shoulder as discreetly as she could while trying to smile to the crowd as she left the arena. The crowd had dispersed, and as soon as I could get away, I did, heading for her room. The event, earlier in the day, had ended in her favour save for a matter of seconds that allowed the victor to gain first place. I watched her carefully as he took his position. Her breathing quickened, I suspect, against her will, and I saw her fists clench as they called out his time. She was on directly afterwards, and was the last competitor to leave. The crowd were stunned by his efforts previously, and although she was the favourite, I had heard, to either win or gain a very high number of points, hardly an eye was on her as she and the other seven in her group entered the arena.

By the end, of course, as soon as Firowen's luck ran out, they were watching her. She was lighter than him, and had the advantage. I still remember how light she was when I lifted her on to my horse. That was one of the few things that made me think of her as a woman, rather than just a fighter who happened to be female. I saw the beads of sweat forming along her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slight yet steady. She was ignoring the cheers of the crowd, concentrating purely on the thought of keeping her hands gripped around the pole. I saw her arms vibrate with the tension towards the end. She had used up all the strength there was left and called upon any reserves. I saw them go slack, her eyes vaulting open and the look of intense pain hidden deep within the dilated pupils. She literally shook off any kind of help, but I saw how hard she tried to hide the agony and left without anyone else fussing over her.

"Who is it?" I heard from inside. I could easily discern the breathlessness as she half-groaned the forced out answer.

"It's me." I replied after a moment's hesitation. I hoped she'd know my voice, I thought a second later as I realised how presumptuous I sounded. There was no reply from inside, although I thought I heard a soft murmur. Bracing myself for possibly getting a pillow thrown at my head, I slowly creaked open the door and peered around it. She lay on her back on the bed, her posture rigid. Her eyes were closed in careful concentration, and I could tell from her laboured and sporadic breathing that she was not trying to sleep. Her left hand gripped her shoulder tightly, her bottom lip clenched between teeth. She had taken off the top half of her now trademark outfit, and was clad only in the leggings and a tight vest-like top she wore underneath. Without hesitation, I walked over and placed a hand over hers. Her eyes creaked open slowly, and I caught a flash of what could have been fear on one less steeled.

"Leave." Came the croaked out syllable. "I don't want you or anyone else to see me like this." On anyone else, I would have thought she referred to her lack of appropriate clothing. But I knew that for her, the only shame was in her own weakness.

"Too late now. What happened?" Seeing she would not win and so did not make things even more difficult, another thing I could not help but admire, she conceded.

"Right before I--" A sharp intake of breath as I gently removed her hand. "--I let go. My shoulder gave in. I thought I pulled it clean off. Or at least, that's what it felt like."

  
"But if that were the case, and you pulled your arm out of the socket, you would not be able to move it."  


"Exactly. I'm sure you can appreciate how pathetic it makes me feel to be in agony over something as trivial as a pulled muscle."

"Not as much as you'd think. I saw as you got down, your arm hit the floor and jarred upwards. You may not have noticed with the preoccupation the pain of a newly-pulled muscle brings."

"Don't make it sound better than it is. It's stupid and girlish and you know it."

  
"Oh for the love of Elentári! Stop putting yourself down. My _father_ thought he'd lose his whole leg once when all that had happened was that he had a rather severe cramp in his calve." Despite her situation, I was happy to see a smile work its way across her face. "I know what might help." I suggested, knowing it as a bold move. Furrowing her brow in a gesture that was oddly cute, she nodded once, barely moving her head. She allowed herself to be sat up, and although I could clearly see she was in pain, the only inclination she let out was a few muffled gasps. I looked over the injured shoulder. It was a slightly darker colour than the rest of her skin, and I made a mental note to ask her that nagging question in the back of my mind when the opportunity arose.

She tensed immediately as my hands came into contact with her skin. I subconsciously waited for a sharp rebuke or an angry gesture, but none came. She relaxed after a while, although her injured shoulder was still rigid. I could hear her breathing in the heavy silence, deep and meticulously controlled. I had a little knowledge in the healing arts. All good warriors did. It was common knowledge that gentle manipulation of the flesh did wonders for injured muscles. My sister being a healer, she had me well versed in the many procedures and techniques used. I hoped Yuna interpreted it as such.

Although, truth be told, I did have a slightly ulterior motive. Her skin. Ever since I saw her, I wondered in the back of my mind how it would feel beneath the fingertips. I was curious, but when I glided my hands over her shoulders, all questions were answered. I could feel the barest evidence of muscle beneath, but no where near as conspicuous as on a man. And the softness of it as I massaged the wounded joint almost brought me to stop. With everything else about her that was so coarse, this seemed to balance it out just right. Little things. Like the way her eyes lit up against her will at the strangest things. The hints of dimples on prominent cheeks. The way she stared out of windows, at candle wicks, on the glitter of a chandelier. Only when she thought no one was looking was the wall brought down. She was sorrowful about something. But then, most are. Everyone had their own things to be sad about, although I suspected she more than most others. Absently, I wondered when was the last time she cried in front of another person. Or at all. I didn't know where the thought came from, and dismissed it quickly as it seemed a little too odd for careful consideration.

She was, I surmised, one of the strangest people I ever had the pleasure of meeting. She could be almost sweet and caring in her own peculiar little way. But then again, she could also look at you in such a way that you could feel every cell in your body suddenly get half as big, and say in a very small voice "oh dear." She was less threatening if you knew her, at least. Then you realised that the aura of power and solitude she kept up really was just a façade.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, breaking the dense silence as my thumbs rubbed over a streak of peachy skin that could only have been a scar from long ago. She relaxed a little, probably glad to have something else to think about.

"Mumak." She stated.

"Mumak?"

"_Mûmakil_?" She tried again. I recalled hearing the name, and identified it as being of the elephantine beasts of the Harad. I told her so. "I believe they were used by the Haradrim in the Battle of the Pelennor fields, although the details I have of that particular skirmish are still rather sketchy."

"_Skirmish_, she calls it. Were you there, I am sure you would say otherwise."

"Yes, but I was not, and therefore, I can say whatever I like." I laughed softly. She was so blunt, and her sarcasm made for a refreshing change of scenery.

"What happened?" She thought for a while, I could picture the images flitting across her eyes.

"I was staying in Lebennin for a time. A few decades ago, my memory fails me as to when exactly. A large band of Haradrim came from across the Ethir Anduin and were raiding the local villages. I joined the small army that marched out of Pelargir to meet them. I was caught in the thick of it. It was Amarië's first large-scale battle, and she got scared. I tried to calm her, but she reared suddenly, and threw me off."

"Amarië?"

"A horse I once travelled with. Beautiful, she was. A coat like black silk with an almost blue-grey blaze. I miss her like I do all my old horses. Anyway, on with the story. There was a dead Mumak directly behind me. I would have been skewered on its tusk had not a soldier grabbed me just out of the way. It still caught me rather badly though, but I was alive." She chuckled with genuine amusement. "Imagine that. Living through countless battles for three millennia only to be killed by something already dead."

"Yes, I suppose that is amusing…in a strangely perverse way. What happened to the soldier?"

"I don't know." She replied slowly, brooding over the memory. "Realistically, he's probably dead. But maybe not. The battle might have knocked some sense into him and made him leave the army as soon as he could. He was very young, only just come of age to join up, by the looks of him. I don't know. Perhaps he was so uplifted by the victory that day that he worked harder than ever and went on to become a great Captain or General, as such is the course of things." There was a pause in the flow of conversation.

"This is old. Is there a story behind it as well?" My thumb traced the barely visible line that crossed over the other.

"If my memory serves me correctly, that was a little token from the battle of the Five Armies right here in the Wood." I worked out a knot near her shoulder blade as I thought over this.

"That is…certainly very odd. You seem to get a round a great deal. I have no recollection that you were there, though. Whose side were you on?"

"I fought with you father's Silvan Elves, of course. At the time I was visiting Gildor to fix up a couple of weapons when I caught wind of the goings-on with the Dwarves. Naturally I was up for a good full-scale battle, so I tagged along."

"I see…" I didn't, really. It was odd how she managed to get people to do what she wanted. She could look threatening enough had she the incentive, and I guessed that it was part of the reason. "How did you get it?"

  
"Orc scimitar. A _rusty_ one." And would you believe that none of the healers present wanted to do anything about it because they were too embarrassed. Those I asked were married, so I pointed out that if that was the case, surely they'd seen it all before and it shouldn't pose so much of a problem." I laughed again at her almost innocent bluntness. "In the end one eventually did something, although I suspect it had something to do with the fact that I had lost a lot of blood and still _had_ a fragment of the aforementioned blade stuck in my back." I shook my head in disbelief.

"How could you be so articulate in a situation like that?"

"Well, if you want a more accurate portrayal, I was half-carried in by a random soldier near the battle's end. When in great pain, I get violent rather than distressed. Since I was fairly immobile, I resorted to shouting at them until they did something. It wasn't even as if they were short on healers. The tent I was in was overflowing with eager novices who sped around the mats like bees in a hive."

"And none of them would help a poor, defenceless woman."

"Don't push your luck. Just be thankful I can't be bothered to reach for the nearest blunt object. And as I recall, just as I was leaving the tent, I happened upon someone being carried in moaning in pain when he hardly had a scratch on him." My hands froze. How did she…? "I remember that was the second time I'd seen you."

  
"And the first?" I made a feeble attempt at reversing the direction of the conversation. Fortunately, it worked.

"You hadn't even come of age. You and Thranduil were riding through town on my first visit to the Greenwood. Your mother was with you." Now that was unexpected. "I remember thinking how beautiful she was. And how perfect all three of you looked, atop pristine white horses with the people stopping to watch you pass. I saw her again only a few centuries ago. She was riding out with you and the king."

"That…that must have been when she was leaving for the Grey Havens to depart for Valinor. The sea called to her too strongly to be ignored. She left when Aldaríon was barely ten years of age."

"Aldaríon?"  


"My younger brother. Narin tells me you have already had the pleasure of his acquaintance."

"Ah yes. The little shit. Although I don't think it's _all_ his fault. Anyone would be like that if they had a striking family resemblance to one of the most attractive men in the Wood." My breath caught in my throat. Did she mean…?

"Where did you hear that?"

"Oh come _on, _princey. First of all, I'm not blind. Secondly, have you ever actually _been_ to the village? You're all some of the women down there talk about. Imagine the shock on their pale little faces when I let slip that I insult, kick the crap out of, and worst of all, sleep not a few doors down from you!" Her shoulders shook with laughter. I had probably easily soothed the muscle sufficiently, but I found myself with my hands still firmly attached to her skin.

~*~ End Interlude ~*~

"H…Here's your horse, Lady Y…Yuna…"

"Hmm?" I was rather preoccupied with other things than to notice the stable hand stalking up behind me, Amroth not two inches behind him.

  
"Your…uh, horse."

"Oh, yes, of course." I rather hurriedly turned around to face him. Thank you…uh…"

"Valandil, we met before?"

"Sorry, I knew your face, I just couldn't, um--"

"It's perfectly alright, my lady. He almost tripped over his words. There was a moment of silence. So how's my little Ammie?" I motioned towards the beast who nuzzled lightly at the elf's shoulder.

"Ever since you talked to him, he's been fine. If not a little temperamental at times."

"That's good."

"And, uh, I've been training him up a bit. Making sure he's perfectly healthy and everything."

  
"That's…_nice_ of you…."

"I've been watching you. In the tournament, that is. You've been doing very well. As well as the Prince, in fact. Few have managed that in the past couple of years."

"I think it's about time someone put him in his place."

"In…indeed," He said, trying to gently deter Amroth from chewing on his hair whilst trying to keep a friendly smile plastered to his slightly thin lips.

"Well, I'd better get on. I need a little practice before this afternoon's competition."

"It is too bad you are unable to use your own horse. As a pure-bred Rohirric, he would surely aid you in gaining more points than your unworthy competitors."

"True, but I guess for some reason we must all use horses of the same ability, otherwise I suppose it would be unfair."

"Ah…indeed." He tried a little more forcefully to dislodge the wad of hair and saliva that was building up in Amroth's mouth. The horse neighed has its jaws were forcefully pried apart and the young blonde 

tugged his golden locks from within.

"I'll…uh…be going." I said, trying hard not to let out a chuckle. Somehow in the current situation I doubted it would do much for his confidence.

"Farewell, my Lady!" He shouted after me as I mounted Amroth and we cantered away. "I shall see you at the next event."

  
"See you there, then." I mumbled under my breath, not caring much if he heard me or not.

Minutes later, I was out in a good square kilometre or so of fields that must have been reclaimed from the forest over the last few years. There were vague fences separating different regions of grassy earth. But nothing that might actually obstruct or hinder anyone or anything. It was odd, that finally there seemed no need. After a half hour of putting Amroth through his paces and once again getting a feel for the beast, I noticed a mounted figure approaching on the horizon. I made no move towards them, it was doubtful they had come for my benefit, though it was likely they had come for the same reason I had, to get in some practice before the next event. Without a second thought, I returned to my previous business and trotted off to the next fence. It was a while of absent-mindedly watching the person's approach before I realised just who it was. And that they were not alone. Mounted atop a suitably tawny steed, was none other than the Prince himself and his…betrothed. I'd almost forgotten about her. They looked like a scene from some childish fairytale. Where the dashing prince had just rescued his fair maiden and both were riding off into the surgical-appliance pink sunset. In short, it made me sick. I looked for some way to escape talking to them, but it was obvious they'd already seen me, as me and Amroth were the only things for quite some distance. Besides, leaving now would be considered rude. Thankfully I remembered that that had never stopped me in the past and started to gallop in the direction of the stables.  
  
"Yuna!" '_Oh Valar,_' There was no way to avoid the meeting after Tengaar's obsessively friendly call. I made a roundabout turn, jumping a low-lying fence as if it had been my intention all along, and simply carried on to the path.

"What are you two doing out here?" I croaked slightly. Tengaar beamed, her beige-coloured dress as always complimenting her slightly tanned skin.

"We came out here to get away from everybody, though I guess that didn't really work out."

"Oh, well, if you'd like me to go." I said hurriedly.

"No, no, or course not." She waved a hand. My eyes ran over the pair for the briefest moment. Why was it that the sight of her hand clasped with his made me feel so bitter? Was I merely envious of the closeness they had? And if so, why didn't I feel the same when I saw Jen and Cer together. It was the other things as well that I noticed. Her hand resting lazily on his thigh, her head snug on his shoulder. Why did it seem all too much?

"I'm afraid I really must go, I said I'd meet someone," I finished lamely. Only baring to meet Legolas' eyes briefly. My breath caught in my throat for a second. There was something there, slight but unmissable, what it was I couldn't tell, but it was not enough to make me sit through the awkwardness of the situation.  
  
"I suppose if you have to…"

"I do, have…um…fun." I forced Amroth around and once again headed for the stables as fast as I dared. It took no time at all to reach the building, and within minutes I was in the safety of my own four walls. There was that question again. Why did I care? Why was it that when I saw Legolas and Tengaar together it felt like someone stabbed me through the heart. I could recall just what it felt like to ride next to him, having done it for at least a weak solid. But at the time I hadn't expected to miss the warmth of his back. Or the security of his arm nestled around my waist. I swallowed the lump in my throat, what was happening to me? Had I become so weak that even slight bouts of jealousy made me want to cry? And what was that look in his eyes? Desperation? Compassion? I couldn't decide. Or maybe in the end, I didn't want to.

~*~

"No way am I getting on _that_." Out in the stables that afternoon I was faced with something of a dilemma Staring bleary-eyed at me was a mare that looked as if any attempt to mount it would lead to broken bones on both sides. "What is that? The _collapsible_ model?"

  
"Look, you weren't here earlier so all the good horses are already taken. Unfortunately for you, this is all we have left. So you either ride it or you're out of the competition. Simple." I Looked™ at the genuinely unsympathetic stable master.

"I thought all the horses had to be equal. Somehow I get the feeling that if _all_ of them are like this, _nobody_ has a chance." He took a deep breath, breathing out through clenched teeth.

"If you must know, we're a little short on horses. _Where_ they think I can find fifty well-trained horses that aren't already indisposed is beyond me." He didn't seem to be talking to me anymore, rather those _cruel_ people whom had enforced this responsibility upon him. I resigned myself to standing there looking as sympathetic as possible. It wasn't that I actually cared, I just assumed it might give me a better chance of trading the mare for something that could actually stand. A table, perhaps?

"Lady Yuna!!" You could _hear_ the extra exclamation mark. I attempted to keep the cringe inwards, not that it worked.

"Valandil!" I turned, positively beaming. "How can I help you? It's not Ammie again, is it?"

"No, m-milady…" It was quite for a minute. The only thing to break the silence was the stable master exiting in somewhat of a huff. The stable hand just stood there, eyes wide, mouth agape. The expression seemed far to familiar on him, and as for myself, I felt like the bearded lady at a carnival.

"Well, what then?"

"I've been looking for you everywhere, my Lady." Once again, the stare. 

"Because…?"

"Oh…yes…right, well, um, I noticed that you weren't here, and that all the good horses were going, so I saved you one." I tried my best, but I couldn't comprehend this. Someone had done something really considerate for...me? Me. A cynical, uncaring, misanthropic bitch. He was either crazy or downright delusional. But is did have its perks.

"Wow, how can I thank you? You've kept me in the competition." I said in a forced voice, not really knowing r comprehending what I was saying. He went crimson, lowering his head and fiddling with the stray pieces of hay on the floor.

"It…it's nothing really. I'm sure any fan would have done the same."

"_Fan?_"

  
"Yes…oh, didn't you know? There are quite a large group of us now. And more aspire to the cause after each event."

"That's…_nice_ of you." He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could carry on with his narrative on the wonderful world of _me_. "I'm afraid I really should be going. The event will start shortly and I don't want to be any later than I already am. If you would be so kind as to show me the horse…?"

"Of course, milady."

~*~

The whispers spread fast through the crowd. Followed by gasps and the final thunder as the competitor crossed the finish line.

"That was…"

"Amazing?" Celoril finished off. "He wins it every year. You wouldn't think it, but he's undoubtedly the best horse rider in Eryn Lasgalen. If not in Middle-Earth."

"You're right. I wouldn't have thought it." In the centre of the arena he dismounted, giving a short wave to the ecstatic crowd before leading his steed out.

"They've improved it since last time." He said, a slight smirk gracing the corners of his lips.  
  
"Oh just admit it, Firowen, you'd have found seducing a new handmaid more difficult than that," Celoril remarked.

"Perhaps. I still resent that implication. But it is good to see they've tried."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," I said, glaring at the animal behind him. "But isn't that your own horse? I mean, it's the one you had with you travelling from Fangorn."  
  
"He is."

  
"But that's against the rules...isn't it?"

"Well, not technically. You see, Gelmir's a pure Elvish breed. If he wasn't already mine, he'd be used for the competition. So the way they figure it, he's the same as any of the others. Besides, the stable master seemed busy so I figured I was doing him a favour."

"Figures." I sighed. "In any case, I'm up in a few minutes so there's no use complaining. See you later." I left the two and made my way to the starting area. Waiting for me was a bay stallion with possibly the most intelligent eyes I'd seen on any animal. "You win this for me, Lamalas, then I promise to get you whatever kind of apples you want. Maybe even delivered fresh from the shire. Even if it's only a good time, I can make sure you get a few nice carrots every day for the next month. C'mon, what do you say?" He neighed softly as I scratched him behind the ears.

"Lady Yunalesca!" The sudden voice from behind startled me. "Bribing a horse is downright disgraceful."

"Despicable, don't you mean" I replied, not turning around. "However much I would like to stay and chat, princey, I'm up next."

"Of course. But, um…who was the stable hand you were talking to before?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I was there earlier. Looking for a horse, that's all." He replied nonchalantly.

"Why do you want to know, anyway? Jealous?"

"I'm afraid not." He chuckled. "He just seemed a little…awe-stricken."  
  
"If you must know, he's fan who was nice enough to make sure I was supplied with a decent horse. That's all, really."

"_Really?_" He raised an eyebrow.

"_Yes_" I scowled. "Now leave me alone. I've got an event to get to and I don't need you and your insinuations to disturb me."

~*~

As it was, I competed the course in enough time to more than reserve me a place in the next event. I'd had some difficulty jumping all nine fences in succession. But on the third attempt I managed it. Although I had to admit that even doing that had been quite an accomplishment, as at more than a few points, Lamalas had stalled, and I'd almost been forced to start again. Thankfully, they'd been split seconds and I'd been the only one to notice so I'd carried on as normal. It was only twice at the two last and hardest fences that I was made to repeat the course. But as he'd had some practice it didn't seem to phase the stallion. Following me came a succession of riders that were at best average. That was, of course until _he_ came along. His own horse was suitably black. With the kind of muscles that rippled under velvet skin as it surmounted obstacles in its way. He sat atop it, completely undaunted by the jolts as the beast cleared fence after fence. Not once did a legible expression cross his face. Not once did he make a move whilst mounted. Even at the very end when he was told he'd come fourth place. Nothing resembling emotion appeared on his chiselled features. 

Something about him sent a chill up my spine. And as with the first time I'd set eyes upon him, I felt that sense of dread and uneasiness that I couldn't fully explain. His presence was unnerving. And as I sat on the sidelines with many of the other competitors surrounding me, I couldn't help but feel that his eyes were steeling glances at me with their icy gaze. But within mere moments he'd left the arena as if he had indeed never been there at all.

A.N. This chapter was written in little bits, and those little bits were pulled together to make other little bits which made up the chapter. That's why it reads so….bitty?

P.S. (sorry) Even though we've sort of covered this, I (Tali) got to shake Sir Ian McKellen's hand (it's quite chubby and the silver, leather trousers he was wearing scared the shit out of me). I shook Billy's hand and kept asking him to sign my poster whilst me and my mate clung on to his arm (his suit was really thin, poor dear must have been cold and he was probably thinking 'could you two bloody cows get off of my arm!' which I don't blame him for, we kept shaking the arm he was writing with). But my special thanks goes to Andy Serkis who was the only one to sign my giant premiere poster (did I tell you I got a poster? No? Well I did, it's like 4 by 3 foot) after which I screamed at him that he'd soon be one of my nine husbands and I didn't mind bigamy. But yeah, now I've got to lug this thing round to signings and conventions so they can all sign it (life is so hard *sigh*). So if you did go there and you saw a random girl being squashed whilst screaming at people "I know you! My mum loves you!" That was me. ^_^ 


	28. Kindred

A.N. Rai: Ha! We thought, we've been horrible to all our lovely reviewers, and they deserve another chapter. SO we forced out this 7000-worder in under a day! That's probably why the writing's crap, etc, but still! Enjoy.

Dedicated to: Everyone who encouraged us when we couldn't be bothered.

Man of the Month: Karl Urban for obvious reasons including HE WINKED AT ME!!!! *is tackled by Tali*

__

"…I've become so numb

I can't feel you there

I've become so tired

So much more aware

I'm becoming this

All I want to do

Is be more like me

And be less like you

And I know

I may end up failing too

But I know

That you were just like me

With someone disappointed in you…"

Linkin Park ~ Numb

Chapter 26: Kindred

It was sometime before midday, that as I sat on the edge of my bed flicking through a book Nólad said I just _had_ to read, a red-eyed Jen came unannounced into my room.

"Have you seen Narin?" She asked in a broken voice. "I can't find her anywhere."

"She said something about taking a ride with a friend, it sounded as if she wouldn't be back for a while..."

"Oh…" She was obviously disappointed.

"Is there anything I can do?" I said somewhat apprehensively. After a moment of deliberation she came in, closing the half-open door behind her and sat beside me on the bed.

"You sure you don't mind?"

  
"Of course not. Now what is it?"

"My parents…they, uh, finally found out about Cer." I could see the tears rising in her eyes, obviously not for the first time that day.

"I…see. I'm guessing they don't approve."

"No, the thing that makes it worse is that they don't even shout. They just do the understanding, self-pitying thing. It's infuriating. They say they know how I feel, and that they only have my best interests at heart. But if they did, they'd realise that Cer is the best thing that ever happened to me…" There was a moment of silence where she absent-mindedly twirled a golden curl.

"What is it they object to about him?" No answer. "The fact he's only half-elf?"

"No. Thankfully they're not so shallow-minded as to care about that. It's just that other people do." She daintily blew her nose into a patterned handkerchief she'd taken out from somewhere on her person. "They say that if I did marry him, wherever we went there'd always be some sort of prejudice against us. Even our children. When people find out about us, they'll see me differently. I've seen them sometimes when I'm with him. People just…they look at him as if he's some _thing_. It's not always that obvious, but it's still there. And my parents…they say they don't want to see that happen to me. They couldn't bear it. Even though everything's true, even though I know they're right, it doesn't matter. I love Cer, I don't know what I'd do without him. The fact that they can't see it. How happy he makes me. It hurts."

"Have you told Cer about all of this?"

  
"No, not yet. I know him. And in the end he'd probably confront them about it. His father's gone away for a while, and without his backing, it would only make things more complicated."

"I know you might hate me for this." '_Best way to start _any _piece of advice…'_ "But it does sound as if they really just don't want you to get hurt. I know if I was in their shoes, I'd think of it that it's bad enough my little girl's all grown up with a guy that's going to take her away forever, but he's going to bring unnecessary hardship into her life. I don't want to see that happen. They must feel that this is the only way they can protect you."

"I know, and…I do understand all their worries, every fear." Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and slid slowly down her flawless cheeks. "I love them so much…and hurting them is the last thing I'd want to do. But I couldn't begin to think of life without Cer. Because…I know in the end it wouldn't be worth living…" Her shoulders shook with the effort of keeping back the torrent behind her eyes. I felt more than awkward. It wasn't that I didn't have sympathy for Jen, it was just that I'd never had much experience with this kind of thing. Trees generally didn't have these kind of emotional issues. Cautiously I placed a hand on her quivering arm, entirely unprepared for her throwing her head on my shoulder. I struggled to breathe in a mass of strawberry blonde curls as my arm worked unsteadily around her slim frame.

"Do they just outright object to you and Cer…?" The question hung in the air for a while before she sniffled and answered in a feeble voice.

"No. They don't forbid me from seeing him." She let out a shaky breath.

"So then what's wrong?" I regretted it as soon as it came out. I had momentarily ignored tact and gave way to cruel, insidious logic.

"It's just that…" She wiped at her eyes furiously with her sleeve. "They make it sound as if it's _my_ fault that I've gone off and been corrupted, and I have no right to be angry at them for saying what they did because they're _always right_. They wouldn't punish me if I carried on, they said, just be really, really _disappointed_." She seemed to draw comfort from my arm remaining where it was, so I made no attempt to move it. "Not that it would make any difference. They were always disappointed in me. Nólad the scholar, Celoril the warrior. And Genévieve the what? A pretty face is my only asset. The very least I could do was marry myself off to a great Lord or some other trite horseshit like that. Just like my mother did." I was momentarily shocked.

"Did they _tell_ you that?" She shook her head, sniffling and seeming to regain some of her composure.

"They wouldn't. But I can always see it. When the truth about Cer and I was discovered, I wasn't ashamed to tell them everything. And I could see it as they listened. In their eyes, the disappointment showed as I told them how long it had gone on for, and that I loved him. I wasn't ashamed, and I told them so. But if I wasn't ashamed of the relationship, why didn't I tell them sooner, they asked?"

"Because you were afraid they'd react exactly as they did." I finished for her, finally empathising.

"I love them too much to deliberately upset them. But I love Cer too much to let him go." She looked up to meet my gaze, her hazel eyes glimmering with tears and strangely beautiful in their sadness. "I don't know what to do…" Was it a question? If so, I really hoped it was rhetorical. Based on my life, I was not the right person to take advice from.

~*~

I breathed in heavily in the morning air. It was filled with the scent of lilies and the dew that still clung to the grass in this early hour. The sun barely peaked over the tree tops as we stood in an open clearing in the palaces ample gardens. It was so peaceful. Nothing but the feel of the wind at my cheek and sound of the pebbles below our feet shifting as we moved in unison. I soundlessly copied his movements, slow and deliberate as they were. They were designed to stretch the body and ease the mind. Rather then tire or overtly strengthen muscles. It was not the first time I had partaken in this exercise, Ralæme Célor had been quite widely practised at a time but had fallen into neglect. 

It had come as a surprise to then find that Firowen was one of its faithful practitioners. Though, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Some of the vital assumptions I'd made about him were rapidly being disproved. It was scary to think, but he seemed to have a solemn side. We once again moved from the position we'd been holding for the last few seconds. My movements shadowed his as he placed his feet apart but in such a way so that he seamlessly changed from one pose into another. His hands moved together until once again they were locked into position. There they stayed for what seemed a welcome eternity until once again we changed. 

"So, what's this one called?" I pestered him, having had my fill of silence. 

"The preying eagle." He replied coolly. I sniggered but still managed not to break form. I could see his smirk from out of the corner of my eye. "Well, just be glad I'm not planing on doing the mating Oliphaunt." That was it for me. I was down on the floor within seconds and the roar of laughter racked my body. "Or the birthing Mûmakil." 

"No, no please." I put up a hand in protest. "Enough." He chuckled, grabbed my wildly failing wrist and had me back on my feet before I knew what was what. "Who the hell named these things?"

"Most likely the person who developed the technique. You do have to give him a hand for his twisted sense of humour."

"Do you think he got first hand experience?" I smirked. 

"Let's hope not. Have you ever seen an Oliphaunt's-"

"-Aghh! I'm not listening!" I screamed a shoved my palms over my ears.

"Apparently they can get to twenty feet-"

"Stop right there!" I reprimanded him. "You and your thoroughly filthy mind can go somewhere else if you're going to carry on like this."

"Sorry, mistress…" He sighed. "Shall we continue?"

"No, I think you've ruined Ralæme Célor for me."

"Well you did ask, as I recall."

"I suppose, but I will never again see it in the same light."

"Then what is it you wish to do, mistress.?"

"It's getting early, we'd better be off."

"As you wish, mistress."

"And you can stop calling me that unless you'd like _your _little-"

"Alright, I get the idea."

~*~

It was a sickeningly humorous aspect of what was by all rights an unfunny situation. She-man had just plummeted the twenty feet into freezing cold water. There were some things you just really _didn't_ want to see. One of them being the resident hedgehogs under each of her armpits. Humans were so grotesque. It was if she was purposely trying to make her fall as ungraceful as possible, her arms flailing wildly and her legs high in the air as she belly flopped into the lake. To top it off, a guttural screech echoed about the arena. There was an obvious snicker from the crowd. I cackled as the only other woman competitor left was most certainly eliminated from the tournament.

I was next. The groups had been merged together since the last event, and now the names were drawn randomly to dictate the order. The event now was certainly more of a challenge than before. A road of poles was positioned above a lake, each different size and height, from mere inches to five or so feet, the distance between each differing as well. And out of these were those with bright red painted tops. And it was only these that we could touch. Any contact with the others and a penalty of five points would be issued. If you fell off, you were effectively disqualified. Neither could you backtrack. And of course, the faster you crossed, the more points you attained. Firowen had attempted it earlier and managed a decent time, but nothing record-breaking by my own, very _special_ standards. Legolas would probably come first if it wasn't my turn next. I was cocky, oh yes, but I had all the right reasons to be. I was _good_ at this. I always had been. Compared with the treetops of Fangorn, these were like toothpicks. I'd show that straw-haired, Dwarf-befriending, superficial fuckwit Prince.

I strode forward, oozing confidence out of every pore. I ascended the ladder, and was acutely aware of the cheers rising up about the audience as I reached the top. I looked around. They were cheering me on. I felt something warm and fuzzy encapsulate me and gave an uncertain wave as I mentally told the something to sod off. My eyes flitted over the royal box and I caught sight of the aforementioned prince and his sire.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

She paused to look at the throng of adoring fans. I saw the barest hint of a smile cross her face. Her frosty hair was held back loosely in a thong of leather, so a few tendrils framed her face. She wore her trademark outfit, which was still scandalous, although most had got used to the expanse of skin it revealed. She raised her arm to wave to the ecstatic crowd, flashing a two inch thick line of tanned skin down her side. The criss-crossed fastenings did little to hide what shame she had, if any. I found myself grinning.

"Ah, the _infamous_ lady Yunalesca." My father said to my left, his gaze not lifting from the figure in black who was speedily assessing the course.

"It would seem so, _Adar_." He chuckled.

  
"And it would also seem that she is matching your performance for the first time in how many years, my son?"

  
"Quite a few, _Adar_," I smiled.

"Can't shoot for shit, though." He said it in so solemn a tone that I wasn't sure he'd even said it, until I saw the faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes.

"Perhaps. But she makes up for it in other ways." An eyebrow shot up on his part as he turned his head.

"Really? Enlighten me." There was a twinkle in his eye.

"_Adar!_" He gave a short bark of laughter.

"'Tis naught but a joke, my son. Now come, let us watch what is sure to be a performance if what you say is true." The crowd had the same idea, it seemed, for the stadium had gone deathly quiet, and there was no conversation that existed above a whisper.

Then, to my utter surprise, she began to walk across the poles as if there was no challenge whatsoever to be held in the event. What little noise there was ceased immediately in favour of the spectacle. The first few were designed to be easy, though, the height only differentiating by a foot or so. The only thing required was balance, and that did not seem to be a problem.

Then came the start of the real course. There were two paths to take from here that intertwined at a few points. There was the one that every competitor so far had taken, and then there was the one _she_ took. There was one pole, just under a metre away and five foot higher than the one she stood on currently. As she stood for a second's flash of thought, I could almost _hear_ her brain calculating every possible move, direction and route to take. The silent arena seemed to quieten further still as she jumped.

Her fingertips, dusted with chalk, gripped the pole's flat top, and I heard a sigh of relief unanimously breathed. She hauled herself up, her legs moving apart slowly, agonisingly controlled to form a perfect split before bringing her body upright in a dead straight handstand. The entire stadium held its breath. She flipped down onto the next pole, eight feet below, and again to the next another four feet down, before stylising a cartwheel so she ended up ten feet above the water. There was a reason why none took that route. The only other pole she could go to was twelve feet higher. But I saw her line of sight flit over another a good three metres away, this was only two feet higher. She made a split-second decision, and proceeded to lunge forward, flipping to the side, stepping off the unreachable pole and using the momentum to propel her to the next. She had made it. I felt my jaw slowly pry itself open but was too fixated on the perfectly controlled movements of her lithe body to acknowledge it fully.

There was one left. The route she took tripled the difficulty, but halved her time. She was on the final pole, but there was one problem. She was in a handstand, and there was barely enough room to keep herself steady on her hands, let alone try and put her feet down. She couldn't even see the bell. The large bell at the end of the course signalled the moment it ends and the time is recorded. She needed to ring it to finish. I saw her legs curl down so the tips of her feet almost touched her shoulders. Her head bent upwards to catch a glimpse and I saw a grin form itself on her face for the moment before she hurled her legs over her head and drew a joint exclamation from the crowd.

In one fluent movement, her foot came into definite contact with the bell, and her body did a somersault in mid-air before executing a perfect dive into the clear water. There was a gasp from the crowd, and I heard a few hisses of 'she's disqualified!' But she wasn't, and she must have known it. The second the sound of the bell is heard, the round is over, so no matter what she did it would not affect her final count of points. Which was, I reflected, likely to be in the upper region of the scoreboard. She broke the surface and I felt the intake of breath more than I heard the actual cheer that exploded from the grandstands. She strolled out of the lake as if she wasn't, in fact, dripping wet and still had her hair secured in the bun. She grinned at the crowd and gave an uncertain wave as she passed by. To leave, she had to pass directly by where we were sat and out of the corner of my eyes I could see my father surveying her.

"Strange. This event is something of a tradition, and yet no one has taken that route since the second age." He said suddenly. My brow furrowed.

"And who was that?" He smiled slightly.

"Me." He answered, and before I had a chance to formulate a reply he was clapping with the rest of the arena. No one really paid much attention to the poor soul that was climbing up the ladder asking the Valar why he had to follow _that_ particular competitor.

~*~ End Interlude ~*~

Firowen was lazily leaning against the royal seats as I passed. He seemed to wage a war between sanity and the Dirty Old Man routine. Sanity lost.

"Must be a cold day, hmm?" He said, his gaze flickering down to my chest. I couldn't really blame him. The water made the fabric cling to my skin in a most unbecoming fashion. And it _was_ a little cold…

But it could not go unpunished nonetheless. My hair was out, it was wet, and it reached the end of my tunic. I whipped it around like someone trying to be casual as I passed. It was as effective as a slap, but without the directness. I heard someone laugh from the royal box, but did not check whom, as they were probably the recipients of flying droplets of lake water.

"Dreadfully sorry." I said, my voice as deadpan as I could make it as I sauntered out.

~*~

It was sunset, the silver moon blended in with the still light sky as I watched the two spar, weaponless. A horde of pubescent girls had flocked to the scene. Surely the Prince of Mirkwood and the dreamy Wood Captain's son training was not something to be missed, especially at this crucial stage in the tournament. There were random shrieks and squeals of delight through the general hub of noise. Quite a crowd of fans had gathered around the outdoor training grounds, which were open to public viewing during the competition. I could do better. The two of them were just sparring, not even trying to do any damage to the other. Where was the sadistic fun in that? I got up from my crouched position in the doorway and entered the square of cleared land. They stopped and turned to me as I walked towards them. A few calls went up from the spectators.

"Nice of you to join us." Came Legolas' voice.

"Just _had_ to change clothes, then? What a shame." Firowen shook his head sorrowfully. I had indeed changed my wet clothes into a loose beige tunic and brown three-quarter leggings. I Looked™ at him.

"Oliphaunt." Came the one-word scolding. He lowered his head and muttered an apology.

"What's this?" Legolas asked, seemingly confused.

"Nothing." Firowen and I said at the same time. 

"Just…ah…" Firowen grasped.

"A joke…" I finished. "Nothing more." 

"_Nothing less_, don't you mean?" Firowen said below a whisper, obvious amusement in his tone. I elbowed him in the ribs as politely as I could. 

"Don't mind him, poor boy's probably too tired from the day's event." 

"Whatever you say, mistress." He coughed, bent double.

"If you don't shut up I will have to do more than light nudge." 

"Is that a promise?" 

"It's a certainty." 

"Than I suppose I have to do whatever mistress says."

"That's it, you're bloody dead." I lunged at him but he managed to move before I could embed my arm in his back.

"Touchy, touchy." He said, waving a finger in my direction. "It's not ladylike to try and beat up your dear servant."

"I'll fucking show you ladylike." I replied a moment before attempting to slam my leg into his own two. I could give that to the little blighter, he was quick on his feet. He moved faster than I could keep up with, but the question was how long could _he_ keep it up? 

"Now, now." The elf once again narrowly missed one of my blows. "Why so rash, mistress? Can't we talk it over?"

"Just shut up and stand still will you?" My strikes were getting closer and harder to dodge. Still, he escaped my advances like the energiser bunny on acid. "Well, if you won't stay put at least fight back." I said, almost breathlessly. He stopped quite suddenly only a few feet away from me.

"Alright." He caught my rapidly approaching fist in the palm of his hand but, like so many, was unprepared for a kneeing to his now undefended ribs. I hit home hard and once again he was left bent double.

"HA!" I spat triumphantly. Legolas stood at the sidelines seemingly stunned by it all. 

"Was all that really necessary?" He asked. I shrugged. 

"Can't say I didn't warn him." 

"Look out." Came the voice of the fallen just before a sweeping kick almost knocked me off my feet had I not jumped back. "And again." Firowen said in possibly the most condescending tone possible as he fought back. I hated defending. I was good at it, but it always made others think I was losing. As I blocked blow after blow from the unusually strong and ferocious Firowen, I was increasingly aware of Legolas laughing as he watched the display. The diversion of my concentration for a fraction of a second allowed a hit to knock me off balance and I fell backwards, just catching myself from the impact with the earth by landing in a strange sort of crab position. "Forgive me, mistress." I kicked him in the shin, and grinned to see it had the desired effect. Legolas bent down to help me up. But he was laughing before, wasn't he? Surely that couldn't go unnoticed. As soon as I was on my feet enough to have good footing, I gripped his offered hand tighter and turned, hauling the Prince over my shoulder and onto the ground.

I heard a few whoops from the assembled crowd, whom I waved to uncertainly. There was a group, no more than six or seven, at the front of the line. They were signalling for me to come over to them. By signalling, of course this included gyrating ones hand psychotically in the air and screeching my name. I approached apprehensively, fully aware of the two men I left on their backs behind me. Most of them looked as if they'd only just come of age, there were one or two boys, though mostly girls were present. This was my first encounter with some of what Valandil had called my 'fans'. This was something of a foreign prospect to me, but if they had come out to see me, then common sense dictated that it was only right I at least talked to them.

"Oh lady Yunalesca, we always watch you in the events, and you're always winning them and we really, _really_ hope you win the final as well!" Exclaimed a young girl.

"Uh…thanks. And…call me Yuna." A few of them squealed. I would have taken a step back had not I remembered my manners.

"Where are you from? _Really?_ Because we've heard _so_ many rumours that we don't know what to believe, so could you tell us so we can tell people the truth?" Said a particularly enthusiastic one.

  
"I'm from Fangorn. Do any of you know where that is?" There was a thoughtful silence. It was doubtful, I reflected, that any of them had passed outside the borders of their own wood. "The Misty Mountains? It's right at the South end of those. Entwood?" There was a general chorus of 'oh's as they looked at each other for confirmation. "So, why are you all out here? It's not an event or anything, just that bimbo prince of yours and his pervy friend sparring." They gasped, no doubt at my casual reference to their crown Prince.

"We came to watch you fight, Lady Yuna." They said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  
"But…why would anyone want to watch me fight? It's not like I'm anything special, most others just happen not to be very good."

"What you did today was _amazing._" Said the expressive one. "Everyone was so silent when you did those flippy things and competed the course faster than the Prince! Even the King was impressed, I could see him from where I was!"

  
"She had _really_ good seats." Said one next to her.

"_Really_ good seats. Right at the front." She echoed.

"Listen." I addressed her. "Is there someone called Valandil with you?" She nodded exuberantly.

  
"That's my brother! He _really_ likes you!" I raised an eyebrow.

"That's…nice…" I was sorry I'd asked.

~*~

It was some time after I'd disentangled myself from the youths that I was making my way back to my room. I paused. The door was ajar. Inside the room, only the barest slivers of light filtered through the curtains, but it was enough to make out a shape in the darkness. It was a person, and either their back was turned or they didn't think I'd seen them. Who were they and what were they doing in my room? And what were they holding? A knife? Too long, a sword perhaps? Or maybe…no, no one would be that stupid to…oh Valar.

  
"Who the _hell_ are you and what do you think you're doing in here!" I said in the most frightening voice I could muster. It worked, the figure screamed and whirled around, giving me a flash of his face in the moonlight. Aldaríon. Not taking my eyes off him, I reached out the door for a candelabra to see better. There he was, still recovering from the shock, mouth agape, posture rigid, and with Luccrecía still firmly in his hand. "What are you doing with that?" I demanded, looming over him.

"N-Nothing!" He stammered, glancing down at it.

"Give it to me." He did, as quickly as he could manage. "Why are you in here?"

"I-I-I-I-I don't…don't um…I…Hey! Wait, I'm the Prince! This is my palace and I should be able to go wherever I please!" He said triumphantly. I took a step forward and noted with some satisfaction that he took a step back.

"Shut up, child. Tell me why you saw fit to enter my chambers and rifle through my belongings like a common thief. I'd hate to have to inform your father of this little incident." I glared at him through hooded eyes.

"I don't know! I-I-I was…um…bored, okay? There's not much to do around here anyway if you're not in the tournament."

"So you thought it would be a good idea to come in here and _handle_ things you know nought about?"

"It's just a sword." He said somewhat defiantly. I leaned in closer, narrowing my eyes to slits.

"And 'I'm going to kill you' is just a sentence."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I saw it when you first came here and I just wanted a closer look."

"Well?" I was so good at making people squirm. It wasn't necessarily an attribute held in high regard by most people, but it sure was fun.

"It's…um…pretty."

"Pretty?" I exclaimed, feeling the energy flood through my arm and into the blade, the chevrons separating through the sheer force of the owner's will. He gasped. "I'll have you know this thing is a little more than just _pretty_, boy." 

"Well…um…what is it then?" I blinked.

"What?"

"If it's not pretty…what is it?"

"You…ah…oh, just shush . It's a damn nice sword is what it is. And not something that I want your grubby little fingers all over." The blade started to close, once again becoming whole. "Let's see what damage you've done to her."

"_Damage!_" He exclaimed disgusted. "I've done no _damage_."

"I'll be the judge of that, child." 

"I'm no child." He said through gritted teeth. It was nice to see myself regaining some ground. "I'll let you know I've handled swords before."

"Oh really, and who exactly would let a horrid little _child_ like you play around with their weapons."

"My brother, that's who." 

"Some how I doubt Legolas would let you fiddle with _any _of his arms." He looked down and shrugged.

"Maybe not now, but he used to." He plopped himself down on the bed, he made it obvious he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon.

"Oh, what do you mean _'used to'_." I sighed and sat next to the munchkin. 

"He wasn't always so busy, before the war started and those dwarves came here we used to do everything together." He blew out his cheeks and studied the tiled floor. "I wasn't even old enough to train with anything but a wooden sword. He…he used to let me use his sometimes, but only with his guidance."

"Why not any more? Things have quietened down, doesn't he have enough time anymore?"

"Things have changed. Legolas is going to become king when _Ada_ passes over the sea to join _Naneth_." He swallowed quietly. "I really miss her." There was a moment of silence. "He has too many responsibilities to care for me anymore." '_I was _becoming_ the palace agony aunt. What did these people want from me? I could hardly deal with my own feelings as it was._"

"Well, why don't you just tell him that you want to spend more time with him?"

"I tried, but he says that I have to find my own friends and that he can't always be there for me like he used to. But I hate all the children here in the palace. They're all such snobs." I chuckled. "And everyone in the city is so _polite_, they just don't really want anything to do with me as soon as they find out I'm the Prince. And the girls are even worse. There are some _five times_ my age that keep throwing themselves at me. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't already know they're only after me because Legolas is taken." It was hard, so hard to keep the smirk off my face. 

"Well, how about this, I'll talk to Legolas about it."

"No, then he'll know I'm just dumb and weak." Another sigh. "I so much want to be like him. Father loves him so much and everybody respects him for being such an amazing fighter. I'm just his little brother, nobody cares."

"I'm sure that's not entirely true." I apprehensively placed an arm around his minuscule shoulders. "I'll have you know that Legolas is _not_ that good a fighter, come on, he got beaten by a girl just today."

"And Yuna's beaten him too." Stated Firowen walking in, nodding his head empathetically. 

"No 'mistress'?"

"That's what I've come to talk to you about." '_Oh god, not another one._' 

"Alright, Aldaríon, what says you bugger off for a while?"

"Let me and Auntie Yuna talk about our relationship issues." The child looked confused.

"But I thought you liked my sister."

"Get out!" He said in an outrage that was not entirely faked.

"Go on, we'll talk more later." I pushed him lightly off the bed and he wandered out the door. 

"Bye, Yunie." He turned and winked before hurrying down the corridor.

"That little rat!" I breathed.

"Oh, you can't blame him. He likes older women."

"What do you want?"

"Just some advice." '_definitely turning into an agony aunt.'_

"Why me?"

"Well, I can't talk to Narin without said advice, Jen's already in a bit of a state, and other than them, you're the only woman I know who I know will give me good advice and has less of a chance of telling everyone you know."

"Spit it out."

  
"It's about Narin."

  
"I got that." He threw a hand in the air."

"How does _everybody_ know?"

  
"Um…because you couldn't make it any more obvious if you shouted it from the treetops?" He sighed.

"Then why is she avoiding me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I look at her, she looks away. Every time I try to talk to her, she goes quiet and answers in one or two words." This was pathetic. Didn't these people _know_ anything? I'd never even _liked_ someone before in that way, and yet here I was giving him advice on his no doubt complicated love life. I also had a feeling it might take a while.

~*~

I yawned expansively. For once in my life I'd talked with someone until the early hours about something other than war tactics. But then, in a sense, that's what it was. A war. Feelings, emotions, we all had to battle them. Sometimes we won and got to keep the best part of our sanity. Sometimes we lost and then we ended up as fools. But in the end, it was all about diplomacy and the protection of your interests…and your heart. 

But now I stood along with the other thirty or so competitors leaning against the fence of a large ring. There were two gates that opened into it. One quite small, obviously only intended for a single person. Another at the other end was quite large and looked big enough to let in several horses or other animals of that kind, at a time. There were many speculations as to what the event was to be but now that we were standing there it was obvious that few had a clue as to what it actually was. The first name was called and a rather short figure with a mass of ginger dreadlocks stepped foreword. I'd noticed him in two other events. The two that used poles and speed. He was spectacular on his feet and besides Legolas had almost beaten my time on both occasions, but not quite. 

He stepped in through the gate, head held high . It was apparent he was trying to prepare himself for whatever might enter through the gate at the other end. After a couple moments wait I could make out a crowd advancing on the stadium. There was a wide path cordoned off for them which they made ample use of. The larger gate was opened and an announcer came through at the head of them.

"The event is called 'Knock Down'." He stated clearly. "These men will come at you and will try to hold you down for ten seconds. You're task is to stay on your feet for as long as you are able. The longer you do this the more points you will get." He paused for a moment. "It might also be a wise idea to try and take down as many of your opponents as possible. There are only ten of them allowed in the ring at one time but as long as those who are incapacitated can brought out, more can enter." He smiled slightly. "Have fun." And walked out. 

The young man in the arena looked at his seventy or so opponents and sighed. Among them I could make out Cer, Nólad and also Celoril cracking their knuckles. So this was what I'd be up against. I raised an eyebrow. So be it. 

~*~

"Cer! If you don't get off me this fucking second I _will_ kick you right there! And you know I will, so I suggest if you want children you--"

"Hold down her legs!" He shouted, unable to hold back the grin.

  
"Oh no you don't!" I screamed, kicking the unfortunate in the face as he approached my legs. Using all my strength, I headbutted Cer's chin and threw him off me as the counter reached nine. I forced myself on my feet and gave the evilest look I could muster to the oncoming force. "Haven't had enough yet, ladies?" I yelled.

"Yuna, please, there are children present." It was Celoril. The little sneak had come up behind me and had me in a beginner's hold. With a growl I brought my knee up and flung myself backwards, so it connected with his jaw. He let go, obviously, and I yelled a savage cry as seven tackled me to the ground. Five seconds later, Cer was holding down my legs, Nólad and Celoril had each of my arms, and the remainder were either sat on me or spread around to compensate for any limbs not subdued. My head was free, and I jerked it around wildly, screaming at the top of my lungs random atrocities. I felt a hand clap over my mouth. I bit it. The owner shouted and let go. I began yelling random numbers to make the referee loose count. I could feel him glaring at me.

"Ten! The round is over!" He said finally. The assistants leapt off of me as soon as was humanly possible, leaving Nólad, Celoril and Cer grinning down at me. The twins offered me a hand each, and I let myself be hauled up. I could hear the usually quiet Cer sniggering, and I whipped my head round to glare at him.

"Carry on like that, you won't have grandkids either." I chided. With much effort, he wiped the look off his face. "Just give the same treatment to Legolas, and I'll only hold you _partially_ responsible if I don't come first." He grinned and nodded once.

~*~

Legolas staggered out of the arena. I caught up with him to gloat.

"I swear they were going extra hard on me in this event."

"Probably." I said noncommittally. "Although I don't see why they would." He looked at me slowly, his cool, calculating gaze putting two and two together.

"You!"

"Me?"

"You told them to…to…!" He pointed a finger accusingly.

"Why would I do that? Why would I _want_ to do that? It's not like _I'd_ ever cheat."

"You just want to see me humiliate myself in front of the palace, don't you…"

"In a word, yes. Come on, it's not as if you ever had _any_ chance of seeing me in a dress. Why you'd want to in the first place is beyond me."

"Because I'm curious, alright?" I furrowed my brow.

"About what?"

"Seeing you look like a woman, for once, instead of that She-man that got knocked out yesterday." My mouth hung open.

"What?" I huffed, practically speechless. Was that what I looked like to him? He put his hands up in protest.

"Not…not that you look like that or anything…but...um…"

"You know what? Stop right there. You're going to proclaim your undying love to Firowen and there's nothing you can do about it! One of us has to win this thing, and I'm letting you know now it's _not going to be you!_" He pouted. "Now sit down and let me fix your braids. You poor thing, they really must have kicked the shit out of you, huh?" He sat down and pouted further still. Like a little elfling, he looked, sat on the grass with his arms crossed defiantly.

"I just wanted to see what you would look like in a dress, alright?"

"For the Valar's sake, why? I'd probably look like Gimli rifling through Arwen's dress-up closet." He didn't laugh, as I'd expected, but merely shook his head. "Hold still!"

"You put yourself down too much." I snorted as I began unravelling his braids, which were in a state of disarray. "You _do._ You'd look more like the Evenstar than Gimli." I stopped. '_What?_' "Less hair, for one." I whacked him about the head and resumed my task with far less care for the Prince's scalp than before.  
  
"I swear, between you and Firowen I just don't know what to do with myself."

"Legolas, there you are! And Yuna, you did such a great job on the event today. I wouldn't be surprised if you won the most points." It was Tengaar, dragging someone behind her. "Oh, this is Hix." The man stepped forward. He was blonde, with light blue eyes and a typical body to match. Figures. "He's my old bodyguard from when I was in East Lórien." I looked him over. He looked like a typical border guard, but there was something different about him. A small part of my mind seemed to recognise him. I rarely looked at the faces of the many guards of Lórien, much less remember them, so I must have met him before or something…

I shrugged it off as nothing more than a coincidence and focussed my concentration on the scene unfolding. Tengaar was putting up the happy façade, Hix was smiling slightly, though his eyes glared daggers at Legolas, and the Prince, for his part, looked genuinely unaware of any awkwardness. He merely offered an arm, and the two of them clasped wrists, although I mentally noticed the iciness with which Hix returned it.

"Hix is competing as well. He's eleventh at the moment." Eleventh? That was pretty good, considering the thirty left were among the best warriors in the kingdom.

  
"Though hopefully not for long. Maybe I can move up a few spaces in the next event." He said, but it was the air of someone whom feels he has to say something, anything.

  
"So…um…I think they're about to put up the scoreboard. Want to have a look?" I tied off the first braid and moved on to the second.

"Sure, as soon as I'm finished here. Stupid thing got it all messed up."

"It was your fault." He started.

"Shut up." I scolded, confusion growing as I saw the corners of Hix's mouth curl upwards in the shadow of a smile.

A.N. Love you all. Review! Merry Christmas and an alcohol-fuelled new year!

Reviews (sorry we've been neglecting you!):

Michelle: You rock! Thank you so much for your review, it really, REALLY helped me get the last chapter up. And by the way, thanks a bunch for practically posting up our entire story line! Nah, it's not exactly the same, in fact, it's hardly the same at all, but still. You'll have to wait for a while for the best bits to come, but trust us, they're coming soon…Oh, and by the way, I'm probably doing the same bit of coursework as you. It's evil, and it was in for last Thursday…only I haven't actually given it in yet…ah well. Maths teachers are only put there by the government to crush what little sprit we school kids have under a pile of longwinded coursework.

PepsiBob, Sylvia Viridian, estrella solitaria, Imbored and sweetlegolas: thanks a bunch for your support as always. You guys keep us writing because when you review begging for a new chapter, we feel guilty and start to write it…

Satori Blackthorn: I wouldn't have had the patience to read something like this over a long time. Have a cookie.

MyDomain: Thankies, it's nice to get some articulate comments like that once in a while. I think we've dragged out the whole romance thing as long as physically possible, though…

Iariel: We've made this chapter extra weird and funny just for you ;)

Melia: The human guy will be introduced fully in two chapters' time. (See? We've got it aaaaall planned out!). And the neglected story is called 'the hard way' by lady Mudpie. I think. It was the first Legomance I ever read, and it made me write my first Legomance as well. In retrospect, it's probably crap, but I was young…

PepsiGoddess: Thank you! I thought of that! Stupid Tali…

Lilena:

Nuquarniel: We feel cursing is a large part of Yuna's personality ;)


	29. Truth

A.N. This is the chapter we've been leading up to for the entire tournament (which was, incidentally, invented as an excuse to throw the celebration at the end of this chapter.) Hope you enjoy it, and sorry about the kiss thing in the other chapter -- really had you going there for a moment, didn't we? Don't worry, the kiss (if there is one….) is coming soon (We are fully aware that we've said that a million times before and still haven't delivered.)

IMPORTANT! : You may have noticed our little interludes at various points during the past few chapters where we needed to get another character's perspective. If it is in first person, it will always be Legolas (unless we say otherwise, although I can't see that happening any time soon), but if it's in third person, just sort of work out who it's supposed to be. It's not that hard really…

Chapter Dedicated to: Arcamenel, our 200th reviewer.

The man of the month is: Hugh Jackman (no speculations on the fandom of our next fic, then…)

__

"…No I can't forget this evening   
Or your face as you were leaving   
But I guess that's just the way   
The story goes   
You always smile but in your eyes   
Your sorrow shows   
Yes it shows   
No I can't forget tomorrow   
When I think of all my sorrow   
When I had you there   
But then I let you go   
And now it's only fair   
That I should let you know   
What you should know…" 

Mariah Carey(Shudder) ~ Without you 

Chapter 28: Truth

"…a dagger fight." I said for the hundredth time that day, my voice deadpan. "Typical. They want a tie-breaker, so they chose the one thing the Prince _excels_ at!"

"Don't worry, my dear. Legolas hasn't got time to train -- I've had Tengaar deal with him." Firowen assured me as we walked to the training grounds, the twins in tow.

"I can't believe they won't just give me my trophy and leave it at that! Seriously." I fumed. Dusk was fast approaching, and I wanted to get in a few hours practice before I was forced to retire. The wielding of White Knives were something the Prince had worked at his entire life. The only time I had bothered with them was when they were the only weapons to hand. True, I was still fairly deadly with them, but I could be fairly deadly with a dishcloth if the occasion called for it. And that wouldn't be enough to beat the crown Prince, whom was already the favourite to win.

"And that's why we're going to help you get up to scratch." He said, almost as if he could read my thoughts.

"Don't worry about Legolas." Celoril started.

"He's not _that_ good, really." Nólad finished for him.

"What exactly did you get Tengaar to…um…do…" I asked precariously. 

"Just take him on a ride or something. I told her to figure something out, as it was all towards a good cause." Firowen answered.

"Helping me win?"

"Well _yes_, but I didn't tell her that in so many words…"

"Never mind. As long as I remember a couple of basic moves I'll be fine. I'm _very _good at improvising on the spot."

"Good, because frankly Legolas is crap. He needs to remember the moves in order to do anything. Hopefully by tomorrow he'll still be cocky enough to think he remembers the first thing about daggers. Even though he hasn't had any good practice since, oh, I'd say at least a month now."

"A _month_? That's nothing!"

"Yes, well, there's not much we can do about anything at the moment besides help you out, so try to ignore the congregation of your very own fans, and give us your best shot." He said, flinging open the doors to the outdoor training grounds, where there were, indeed, a great number of spectators assembled.

The next few hours passed rather too quickly for my liking. First, I went one on one with Firowen, whom was actually rather good, for all of his false modesty. He corrected me on my posture, and when I snapped at him, said that I was far, far worse when I was teaching someone. When he deemed me good enough, Celoril joined in, and finally Nólad. A few had dispersed from the crowd by the time the sun had set, but many remained until we finally left to seek rest, and I probably the only one not looking forward to it, but still a lot more confident about the next day.

~*~

I awoke in a cold sweat. The same dream again. The same screaming, bright lights, buildings crashing to the ground. I knew not why they continued to haunt me, nor why I could do nothing to banish them. But I continued to ignore them in the hopes they would disperse by themselves. Arnor's golden rays filtered through the curtains as the day was born anew. Only a few hours left before I was to face the Prince in the arena just so I could run off with my well-earned trophy. And tonight saw the culmination of all my hard work, as the forfeit would be carried out on either of our parts. Obviously, I had no intention of wearing that yellow monstrosity to the celebration, and I had not come this far to not watch the Prince humiliated. So it was a rather sadistic thing to make him do. Why not? He deserved to be taken down a notch or six.

Perhaps after that I could leave this place. I had stayed far too long for mine, or anyone else's liking, I suspected. Thranduil didn't trust me, and it was doubtful he wanted me to hang around as I depleted his darling daughter of her innocence. No, I had outstayed my welcome. I know that I would get sick of me pretty quickly, and the only thing that could be gathered from my friends' indifference was that they were far too polite to tell me so. I would say my goodbyes soon, perhaps a few days afterwards. It wasn't just that I felt I needed to see how Fangorn fared against the invading force, but also because every moment I spent here tangled my web of emotions further. They were so kind, so accepting, so forgiving. It was disconcerting to say the least. The only one who showed me any kind of normal behaviour was the King himself. Oh, he despised me. I could see it when he looked at me, and I stared right back. I was disrespectful, crude, and a threat. Probably because I didn't bow to him. But why should I? I owed him no allegiance. Of course, I was thankful for him letting me stay so long, but he never _asked_ me to, and he'd rather I left anyway. He was a King, but not _my_ King. Very few held my respect, and he was not one of them.

I contemplated a great many things as I pulled my clothes on, fastened my hair in two long braids that dangled freely to the small of my back, and headed towards the practice courts to prepare myself for the day's activities.

~*~

I yawned widely and loudly, forgetting my audience for a moment. "'Scuse me." I mumbled half-heartedly. There was a round of appalled sighs from the supporters of the Prince amongst the crowd. Standing about five metres directly opposite me was my opponent, pacing slowly up and down his end of the arena. "Nervous, Legolas?" I inquired smugly. He stared at me for a brief moment before rolling his eyes and once again continuing the monumental job of trying to ignore me. "You know, you really shouldn't be." He stopped. "I'm going to win anyway…so what's the worst thing you can do?" I chuckled as he shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face. After ten minutes of waiting around there was still no sign of the King, without whom, for who knows what reason, we couldn't start the match. Unable to stop myself from fidgeting, I began to weigh up the two slim silver daggers in my hands. Absentmindedly, I pitched one up in the air, catching the handle as it spun back down. I shrugged, grinning as a pathetically showy way to remedy my mindless boredom crossed my mind.

Within moments I had the daggers flickering through the air, one a fraction of a second behind the other. It wasn't testing, just a way to keep my mind occupied whilst the delay continued, much to the amusement of the crowd. This was just one of the many things I thought it might be useful to know, and had taught myself when I had a spare month here and there. That happened a lot for some strange reason…

"Lady Yuna!" Came the high pitched cry of one of the many spectators. "Catch this!"

Out of the mass of bodies, a small wooden object came speeding towards me and with luck I managed to catch it, keeping my rhythm with the two airborne daggers. It was instantly joined in the somewhat monotonous sequence of throwing and catching, and before long was but one of many objects the crowd tossed my way. A chant arose throughout the mass of spectators as every few rotations a new item was added to the fray, increasing the difficulty each time.

"Yuna…?" It was the Prince."

"Uh huh?"

"What are you doing?"

"Juggling." I replied simply.

"Yes, I can see that. You do realise we have a deciding match to begin, don't you?"

"Not until that father of yours shows up." I passed one under my leg to the obvious amazement of the crowd. "Seeing as he _still_ isn't here, and I frankly have nothing better to do, I'm just going to carry on if you don't mind. Why don't you go off and humour that group of twitterers in the front row. Since you walked in they haven't taken their eyes off your--"

"Yuna." He said, a little more urgently this time.

"Yep?"

"My father's behind you." I jumped round, hearing the crash of about nine objects colliding with the ground as I faced the King, adopting the classic 'I wasn't doing anything. What? I don't know _how_ they got there…' position of hands behind back and innocent look on face.

"Mornin', your Majesty." I coughed. For such a large amount of space, the silence seemed unholy.

"Lady Yunalesca." He greeted with all the warmth of a glacier. His iciness was slightly hampered by the fact that Narin stood on his left grinning frantically and waving a hand in some kind of greeting. "If you are quite finished with your…display."

"Of course, your Majesty." I had a way of making certain titles such as 'majesty,' 'lord' and 'grace' sound as degrading as if I had the nerve to use their real name. But of course, as we all knew, Legolas didn't count. 'Prince' wasn't a real title anyway. Apart from maybe the Princedoms of Gondor. Anyone else was just their father's son.

"Then I believe it is best if we begin, don't you?"

"Certainly, your…ahem, Majesty." He gave me a tight smile before he and his entourage swept over to the royal box. Bending down, I picked up the two discarded daggers from the pile that was rapidly being removed from the playing field. I squeezed the handles lightly, regaining my grip as out of the corner of my eye I spotted the referee entering the stadium. He walked in to the centre of the arena and beckoned Legolas and I to join him. Simultaneously we paced to where he stood waiting. I couldn't help beaming at the Prince's overly stern expression. He looked up, staring at me as if I was a maniac whilst I simply winked at him, feeling my nerves bristle.

"As always, the rules are simple." The referee, who seemed slightly young for the position, started. "First blood drawn wins the match. Remember, no deep cuts, I'm sure neither of you have a desire for the other to bleed to death, and even if you do, try and keep it to arms and legs. There are no illegal moves, but do try and keep it a fair and clean fight. As I said, there should be no need for us to drag your limp body from the stadium. Understood?" We both nodded. "Good. May the best m-- _person_ win." He turned and headed for the outskirts of the ring, leaving Legolas and I a little too close at the moment for comfort. Shaking my head slightly, I took both daggers in my left hand and extended my right. After a moment he clasped my wrist, a little too shaky for my liking.

"How long have we waited for this?" He 'hmphed.'

"Since we met." He smiled, a faint glimmer in his eyes.

"Then don't hold back." Legolas seemed surprised. "You're nervous, Mirkwood." He looked at me indifferently. "You're never nervous. Not when it comes to something this simple. I've no intention of hurting you, well, much, anyway, but neither do I intend to lose. Don't lower your game."

"But.."

"Legolas!" I practically exploded before catching myself. "Legolas, don't you dare disrespect me as a fighter by assuming I can't match your level. I would hope you knew me better than to think I couldn't beat you in a second. Besides, I'm not having you getting smudges on my trophy." He grinned. "So we're agreed? We both give each other our best fight…even though it's pointless because you'll still lose."

"Agreed." Legolas chuckled. "I owe you that much. Just, uh, don't be too bitter when I win." I laughed as I walked to my starting position, the referee calling for us to do so for the fifth time in the background.

"You're something, Mirkwood, you really are."

"Are the two of you finally ready?" The referee asked, a hint of annoyance clear in his tone. We both nodded our own affirmation. In one smooth movement the Prince unsheathed the daggers on his back and brought them down to his sides. "Then you may begin on my mark." There was a few seconds of breathless tension as the five thousand or so people crammed into the stadium waited for the Elf's signal. "Mark!" He shouted, bringing his raised arm down suddenly. There seemed a moment right after his voice rang out that the entire world remained in a freeze frame. With a breath I shook it off and the two of us circled one another, it seemed the most logical thing to do. It seemed like forever before we got anywhere close to striking distance.

"So what do you say we give them a show?" I grinned.

"Why you expected anything less, I do not know." Our blades met in a clash of cold steel, the audience gasping with delight. Both of us followed through with a few deft lunges and blows but nothing that couldn't be easily defended. We were just warming up. I ducked quickly as his arm skimmed above the top of my head then, jumping, used the momentum to flip back, putting some distance between us. He sheathed one dagger, leaving one hand free, and came at me. I kicked. He caught my ankle before my leg managed to connect with his torso. Before I knew it, he'd swung my foot over my head, flipping me down and causing me to have a firm meeting with the ground. I reeled as pain spread through my back. In a flash Legolas straddled my stomach and made to slash my arm lightly. He hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and that was enough for my feet to knock him off.

"Think you'll beat me that easy, Princey?" I kangaroo-kicked myself back onto my feet and whirled around in time to grab his wrist that was accelerating my direction. He replied with a smirk as his leg swiped under me just as I jumped to avoid them. I spun around, my braids twirling around behind me in a pirouette. I brought my left leg around at the same time, as if in a roundhouse kick. He grabbed for it, but a spilt second later my right had connected with his shoulder and he was down. Remembering that I did actually have a weapon, I swiped downwards. It was a fatal move, but I knew he'd dodge it just as easily as he did. The other came round a fraction of a centimetre away from his arm and the sharp intake of breath as he felt it skim the thin fabric of his shirt was audible.

"Good." He began, lunging forwards and placing me on the defensive. Our blades locked once more, and it became a test of strength as we both tried to push the other back. He leaned in closer. "But not good enough." Cocky little bastard.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

"I don't know who to root for." Narin said, leaning her head to one side in thought. "On one hand, he's my brother, but on the other, he's my _brother_." She regarded the two figures locked in an intricate combat. "And Yuna deserves to win after everything. And Legolas _has_ won almost every year for the past Eru-knows-when…" She turned to the Elf next to her. "What do you think?" Firowen stroked his chin as his eyes followed the battle.

"Well, in the end it's all a beauty contest, isn't it?" He stated philosophically.

"So…that's who then?"

"Well Legolas certainly has the support of most of the female population, and, I wager, a good deal of the confused young males, but then again, Yuna has those amazing jug--"

"What?!" Narin looked appalled.

"Juggling talents." Firowen finished of smoothly. "Why, what do you think I was going to say? Really, my dear, I would have thought your opinion of me to be higher than that." His grin gave away that he was fully aware of the fact that he was winding her up. "I hope Yuna wins. Not only because Legolas needs to be taken down a notch, but also because he's my friend, and I'd hate for Yuna to claw his eyes out after he makes her wear a dress tonight."

"What's this?" She was interested now.

  
"Legolas and her made a bet. He told me that if he wins, she has to wear a dress at the celebration."  
  
"And if she wins?"  
  
"He didn't tell me. Probably he has to go naked or something, I wonder how high the pile of hormone-fuelled court ladies will be after he gets pounced on."

"Well I hope he wins too, in that case. I just can't wait to make her look _stunning!"_ She grinned.

"In the good way, of course."

"That won't be too hard, though. For someone with so many admirers, she has a surprisingly low opinion of herself. Maybe this way I'll get her to see how gorgeous she can be!"

"You're getting excited over polishing up a woman who'll probably hate you for it?" She blushed.

"Well, why not? And besides, she can't blame me if she loses. All I'm going to do is dull the pain a little by picking out a nice dress for her to wear. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course not." He reassured her, discreetly slipping her hand into his and grinning boldly as he saw the corners of her mouth curve upwards. It had been the first contact they'd had since the day before that left the realm of friendship. '_She she was right_.' Narin thought giddily as she revelled in the moment. '_He does like me_.' Not for the first time, she was thankful that they had taken their seats further back in the royal box, away from the hawk-like eyes of her father, whom was sat in the front row regally. There was a gasp from the crowd, and the two looked up to see the subjects of their discussion standing, dead still. Legolas had his back to them, but they could see Yuna in full view, an intense expression on her face, and blood seeping out of a wound in her arm.

~*~ End Interlude ~*~

A thin line of red appeared on the sleeve of his shirt where my dagger had barely cut through the fabric. He hadn't seemed to notice. He was in exactly the same position as I. We had spun in opposite directions, and at the same time brought our knives around. His eyes were focused on my own arm. I felt a trickle of blood escape the wound. I looked down, disbelief hitting me square in the chest, my stomach dropping to the earth as I realised that the first blood drawn had been mine….

Or had it? Perhaps it was his. Maybe I had got in a split second before he had, and won the match. But there was no way of knowing now. The referee hurried towards us, the more obvious cut on my arm glaring out treacherously. He took breath to announce the Prince as the winner, no doubt, when Legolas spoke, just before I got a word in.

"Mine was the first blood drawn." He said, baring the tiny slit in the fabric and the papercut underneath. The referee's brow furrowed in thought.

"But…are you sure? I thought it was hers, at least, that's what I saw."

"Her cut is deeper, but mine was first." How sickeningly noble of him. Why did he do this to me? Put me in these stupid positions where I have to remember that I _do_ have something to lose for once by being selfish. If I didn't do something, he was going to constantly remind me that I owed him, and that I'd _still_ have to wear that bright yellow _thing_ as well as the clashing shawl, heels, tacky gold jewellery, _and_ sparkly tiara. I'd bargain with him. I'd wear a stupid dress if he put on some kind of a show. One humiliation deserved another, right?

  
"Wait," I started, as he took in breath to bellow again. "It was at the same time. I saw myself cut him at the same time I felt my own."

"Is this true?" He asked Legolas. I gave him a particular Look™.

"I am unsure, although I believe it could be so. The moment is rather blurry in my mind. But I have no reason to doubt her word." I had to stop myself from bursting into peals of laughter at his comment.

"Then…it is so." He left, looking rather perplexed. We watched him confer with the King for a moment. A sharp look in my direction from Thranduil prompted a grin from me. Without looking away, he gave a slow nod. The announcer bowed and walked out into the field once more. He took our opposite hands in his and raised them up before the crowd. "Behold your champions!" He bellowed. There was a bewildered murmur from the crowd. "We have a draw, as agreed by both parties!" It took a few seconds before a cheer rose up. He dropped our hands and beckoned us to follow him as he swept to the royal box. Legolas gave me a questioning look on the way, I merely shook my head at him witheringly as we approached, and accepted my fate.

~*~

"This is going to be so much fun!" Jen squealed, her and Narin were bustling about my room opening curtains, fiddling with mirrors and calling for servants to fetch various items.

"You're going to look _amazing_." The princess sighed. "I just know it."

"Now stand in the light." Jen commanded. I gave a pleading look which was utterly ignored before shuffling into the pool of light flowing in from the balcony. "What do you think?" She nudged her partner in crime. The two stood for a moment, arms crossed whilst they contemplated my fate.

"I'm not getting out of this alive, am I?"

"Oh, Yuna, stop being so morbid." Jen chuckled. "Just trust us, we've had enough experience to ensure you don't end up looking like a garnished troll."

"Besides, it's about time you tried on something different, all you ever wear are tunics and leggings." I was about to point out that all she ever wore were dresses with more layers than a full sized wedding cake but decided against it. I was in their hands now and they'd be inclined to give me more say if I kept my mouth, for the most part, shut.

"You have such a good figure, Yuna. And sometimes you just wear the most unflattering things." I just nodded, what was the point of arguing when they already had free reign over me. My only solace was the fact that I wasn't going through this alone. If I was humiliated, Legolas would be too, and hopefully in a far less discreet manner. "Like those incredible breasts, for one. There's absolutely _nothing_ to be shamed of there, so why don't you show them off more?" I was formulating a reply when there came a knock on the door.

"Come in!" The two beckoned in unison. Gem opened the door at the head of a small convoy. Behind her six or so servants hustled in, arms laden with dresses, corsets, slippers and a whole manner of similarly unholy items in every colour imaginable. I grimaced. Why did I get the feeling that we were going to be here for a while?

"Of course we'd have had something specially made if there was time, but I'm sure we'll be able to alter one of these to fit you fine. Besides, I'm sure one of these is classy enough." Narin began to rifle through the piles on the floor.

"She means 'conservative'." Whispered Jen as more garments were brought in.

"I heard that."

"You'd be better of in something really sexy." Jen went on. Yes, I was finally truly convinced that Wood Elves were a different breed to those prudes in the Dell. "I'm sure Legolas would appreciate it…" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"….I'm sorry…what? You've been spending _far_ too much time with Firowen"

"No." Narin broke in. "Like you said to me, it's just really, really obvious."

"Exactly. We even have proof. You two were cosying up outside of events." I was suddenly aware of my mouth hanging open.

"I was _sleeping!_"

"Uh-huh." They chorused.

"_Alone!"_ I protested my innocence. "It's _true_."

"If it is, they why exactly does he want to see you in a dress so badly?" There was silence. The servants had even stopped scurrying about to listen in on the conversation. It was no surprise they all happened to be female.

"Because it's the one thing he knows I'd never do without a _very_ good incentive!"

"And what _exactly_ would this little incentive be?"

"We had a bet, and I sort of half lost."

"Of course you did." I hated that tone of voice.

"Look, even if I _did_ like him in that way, which I don't, or he liked me in that way, which he doesn't, he's betrothed to _Tengaar_, and they love each other."

"Of course they do."

"Stop it!"

"You said in _that_ way? What exactly does that mean?" the ever discerning Nairn.

"You know, like you _like_ Firowen, and all the rest of that complicated …stuff."

"So you like him in another way?" Jen piped up eagerly.

"He's nice, okay? Happy now? He's pleasant to be around, but so are a great many others in this wood!" They were unconvinced. "He's _betrothed_, for Ilúvatar's sake."

"There's that, I suppose." Narin conceded half-heartedly. From the corner of my eye I noticed the servants giving each other knowing looks and returning to their work.

"Will that be all, my ladies?" Gem inquired, the servants finishing up with their tasks.

"Yes, thank you Gem." Narin replied. "We'll call you if we need anything further."

"Of course, milady." Gem bobbed a curtsey. "Alright, me dears." The hobbit ushered the others out. "Let's leave the ladies in peace." When all had left and the door closed, I asked a question that had been plaguing me for some time.

"Narin, don't you feel odd thinking about the entire female population of Eryn Lasgalen quite literally trying to get their hands on your brother?"

"I don't" Jen stated.

"That's because you've got someone better to think about."

"True." She smiled dreamily.

"…Well I suppose I've become used to it. Ever since he came of age they've been fawning over him relentlessly, hoping that he'll notice them." She picked up one of the many dresses littered on the floor and fiddles with the beadwork. "That is, until Tengaar came along, then they pretty much backed off." I nearly choked.

"This is them 'backed off'?"

"Oh, you should have seen them before." Jen bubbled. "They practically seized the palace. 'Legolas, come take a walk, won't you please?'" She fluttered her eyelashes in a way that someone somewhere must have thought attractive as she mimicked the mating call of the typical courtesan. "'Oh Prince Legolas, will you give us an archery demonstration.?'" Here her voice went completely flat. "'For you are ever so handsome and brave.' And of course the worst thing is if they can't get directly to him, they'll go through you. 'Oh, Jen, why don't we go out somewhere, and maybe you can invite one of your friends, you know, like Prince Legolas?!?!'" It was amazing they way she made the extra punctuation audible.

"It's incredible the lengths they go to. Being his sister, I've heard all about it either from him after a hard days' Being Pleasant or from one of those ratty little harlots themselves. Anyway, back on track. What do you think of this one?" Narin lifted up a frock of a pale bronze colour with bits of lace attached somehow in seemingly random places.

"In a word, no. It would clash too much with her colouring. But anyhow." She carried on. "The scariest one of them all is one Aryana Vailariël ." What a name.

"Oh, Valar." Narin sighed, picking up two dresses, one peach and the other green. She came over, holding a sleeve of each up to my face. "Warm or cool?"

"Cool, definitely."

  
"Lady Aryana Vailariël, one of the most insignificant of Ladies, but she clings to the title like life itself. As does her mother. She's had designs set on my brother since….well, frankly as long as I can remember, So 'cool' it is, then. That means only blues, whites, silvers and some greens, reds, pinks, purples and golds." Jen nodded, already on the floor separating out the colours. I swallowed, trying hard not to let out another sigh.

"Does Legolas like her?" I inquired, perplexed.

"He seems somewhat oblivious. Our dear, sweet and at times hopelessly naïve Prince." Jen explained, switching places with Narin. She held up a light lavender gown dotted with pearls. "Are we thinking long or short sleeved…or sleeveless?" She rose her voice encouragingly.

"I think that all depends on the dress."

"In that case are we thinking with a waist, or a corset? High or plunging neckline? Flowing or fitted skirt?"

"I think that depends on the colour." Narin replied, continuing the seemingly never ending circle of 'dress decisions.'

"It was hilarious when, as soon as Aryana thought she'd finally got her claws into him, he brought Tengaar home, and all her dreams were dashed."

"The look on her face when the engagement was announced." They giggled in unison.

"Ah." Narin jumped up. "You'll probably meet her tonight."

"Poor thing still thinks she can snag him from under Tengaar's nose."

"So of course she'll be there, dressed to the nines and ready to poor herself onto him. If we're going to do this in time we're going to need to eliminate some colours. What do you say to only red, white, silver, green and blue?" Jen nodded enthusiastically.

"What about this one?" She picked up a snow white dress covered in embroidery.

"Good choice. You need to try it on, Yuna." I shrugged with indifference as Jen handed me the gown. It seemed excessively heavy for an item of clothing, especially one that wasn't made out of leather or metal. I wondered behind a paralleled screen that had been hurriedly set up a few minutes ago and stripped to my undergarments. I stared hard at the thing whilst reassuring myself that getting into it probably wasn't as hard as I thought.

"Did Narin tell you what happened with her and Firowen?"

"Jen!"

"She kissed him…finally!"

"Unlike some, I didn't need to resort to slapping his behind." She giggled.

"Your brother thoroughly and utterly deserved that. This thing's a little tight across the, um, _chest_."

"Don't worry, we can always let it out." I came out from behind the screen and hobbled over to a full length mirror, trying desperately not to trip on the abundance of material below my feet.

"It's good, but, um…" Jen trailed off.

"I know, there's something that just doesn't seem quite right about it…"

"It clashes with my skin." I stated.

"She's right." Narin seemed astonished.

"And seeing as it doesn't have any sleeves it shows off that ugly bandage." Jen added.

"So we're going for sleeves then?"

" I think we have to. Even though she does have really good shoulders."

"Then at least we can get rid of an entire category. Which leaves us with short and long sleeved." On the polished floor two piles had been clearly formed and thankfully the one I assumed as being the 'maybe' pile was noticeably smaller than the other. "Next."

~*~

"I look like a tree."

"True…but a nice one." I glared at Narin. "It's the seventh one you've tried on and there's been something wrong with each one! You're impossible!"

"Look, Yuna, you despise everything _we_ chose, so why don't _you_ just pick something?"

  
"Alright." I said, with more conviction than I felt, kneeling down to face the remaining heap of material. I closed my eyes, shoved my hands in, and took out the first thing I liked the feel of, dragging it out from the cluster."

"Um…it looks a little big." Jen commented.

"It can't be any worse than the others." The princess sighed, "Just try it on." I reappeared a few minutes later clad in the pale blue dress which billowed out around me.

"Well…on the good side, it's a perfect fit around the…chest." Jen stated.

"Actually," Narin said hopefully. "With a bodice or corset on over, it just might work."

"Will one of these do, milady?" Asked Gem, appearing from nowhere. The two started before regaining composure and considering the two corsets the Hobbit proposed. "Unfortunately, they're the only ones that might have a hope of fitting."

"Then I think we'll try the silver one. Somehow, I doubt burgundy's really going to go with it." Jen stood and, taking the corset, proceeded to manhandle it in a very motherly fashion. Which generally meant no discretion whatsoever. "Breathe in and hold." With apprehension, I did as I was told whilst she put one dainty foot on the small of my back and pulled the two bits of lacing as hard as she could. I felt as if my ribs were cracking and my organs compressing as she tightened it fully and secured the fastenings in a bow.

  
"I can't breathe." I squeaked.

"Yes, that's the general idea." She nodded brightly. "Don't worry, you get used to it…eventually."

"I was right." Narin said smugly. "It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far, but in any case it's the best one here and I'm sure with a nice pair of slippers on it'll be just fine."

"It is rather complimentary, isn't it? Fabulous sleeves. With jewellery and the right hair I'm sure she'll look absolutely spectacular!"

"Nobody said anything about hair." I frowned.

"Oh, don't be silly, Yuna," Narin laughed. "The dress alone really means nothing."

"Ah…" I rubbed my forehead.

"Gem." Jen addressed the Hobbit. "Be a dear and draw a bath, will you?"

"At once, milady." She bobbed and headed out.

"Now, let's get this off you and see about a necklace, not too much, though, just something elegant and…"  
  
"Classy…" They both finished Narin's sentence.

"And something for the hair."

"Up or down?"

"Down, I think…maybe intertwined with little beads."

"Hmm." Jen nodded. "Well, we better be off. Got things to take care of before tonight."

"Huh?" I moaned.

  
"Oh, don't worry, Gem will take care of everything." Narin reassured me.

"See you later." The other elf cooed. Before I knew it the two had swept out the door and I was left to try and remover the torture device myself.

~*~

After three hours of pampering, which, I had to admit, I rather enjoyed, I found myself staring at an unfamiliar figure in the mirror. The dress I'd been forced to wear was a light aquamarine blue at the top which blended into a slightly paler shade of blue somewhere around the waist. The edges of the sleeves and hem were embroidered with silver thread depicting a vast array of flowers and leaves, each of them small and delicate. Although it started in a boat neck, the fabric was sheer enough to make out the ample cleavage the silver corset provided me with. The corset was made from silk, with a harder material underneath designed to prevent any kind of comfort whatsoever. I wouldn't be surprised if it _was_ made out of metal or wood. It had a front panel lightly embroidered with upward trailing flowers, which seemed to be a heavily recurring theme here, and dotted with tiny, pearl-like silver beads. The sleeves, which started narrow and billowed out before my elbows, ending somewhere below my knees, seemed to have more layers of material than anyone could possibly need.

"Foot. Up." Gem commanded, easing on a satin slipper which was pretty much the same colour as my dress, but decorated with small beads. "I must say." The Hobbit smoothed down a few creases in the skirt. "Done a rather good job." She giggled. "If I do say so myself." I couldn't take my eyes from the reflection, it must have been some type of deep-rooted morbid fascination. In the background, Gem hummed some random Shire tune as she fixed my hair for what seemed the hundredth time. In fact, it probably was.

"I knew it…" I whispered to myself.

"Knew what, milady?" Gem asked, straightening the hem unnecessarily.

"Oh, um, nothing…" _'Just that all my worst fears have come to life.'_ I sighed. '_I look stupid. This isn't me, and it doesn't look like me. I'm a warrior, not some simpering courtier who sits around all day planning her wedding. It was absurd of me to think I might actually look…' _I shook my head. _'But I guess this is exactly what he wanted, all this time…to humiliate me. One embarrassment deserves another.'_ I wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye after tonight. Not after looking so foolish in front of the entire court. I was generally shameless as things went, but for me to turn up looking like some Harad peacock was almost too much. '_What's happened to me? How have I allowed myself to be talked into something so pathetic by some blonde idiot?_' There was a knock on the door.

"That'll be your escort." Gem jumped up hurriedly.

"Escort?"

"Oh yes, the Princess said she'd send someone special to take you down when the time was right."

"Special…?" I panicked.

"Uh huh." She beamed. "Oh! Hold on a tick, you're not ready yet!"

"Um…okay…?"

"There's just one last thing." She rushed over to the dresser and retrieved a tiny vial out of one of its many drawers. She uncorked it with a pop before lifting my right wrist and depositing a small amount of the liquid held within onto the skin. "Rub your wrists together then rub a little behind your ears." I rolled my eyes before Gem returned it with a stern glare as I…rubbed, she went to the door to let in my unknown escort. I think it was then that I felt it. For the first time in an age. Butterflies. My stomach seized up in flutters, my heart skipped its fair share of beats, my breath exited my lungs in one long, shaky exhale. I couldn't bear to turn around. I didn't belong down there, not with them, pretending to be someone I definitely wasn't. Nonetheless, I knew I had to. If anything, I owed them, no that was wrong. They'd helped me, true enough, but they weren't what I was worried about, he was.

"Yuna?" I recognised the voice immediately and gave a brief sigh of relief.

"Nólad." I said, turning to face him with a smile plastered to my features.

"Wow! You look…" we said, before laughing in unison a moment alter.

"You look really good! …Different, but nice!" He exclaimed without any obvious sarcasm. 

"Don't look too bad yourself." I arched an eyebrow. He was dressed in an almost tea-green tunic with leggings to mach, both obviously new. A small circlet rested on his forehead, helping to bring out the colour in his cerulean eyes. He smiled almost cheekily.

"Are you ready, milady?" I bit my bottom lip.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He nodded and offered his arm to me which I graciously took. "So, is there anyone special you're planning on meeting tonight?" I inquired as, arm in arm, we strolled out the door and into the corridor beyond.

"No." He replied sheepishly.

"So that's a yes then, is it?"

"Um…yes…"

~*~

My eyes surveyed the scene before me. The courtyard in the centre of the palace was dressed up almost to the extent of some of the ladies present. The theme turning out to be roses, I surmised, making an educated guess after surveying the great branches twined into the wrought fences by the walkways, into the trellis covering a small part of the heavenly twilight sky, and the petals scattered on the stone floor. Groups of coifed Elves stood chatting with one another about this or that, a group of females huddled in one corner giggling, clad in a colourful array of silks, shooting coy glances around the room periodically. Jen and Cer stood together, their ocean blue garments matching just enough to be perfectly complimentary, but different enough to make it look like a fortunate accident. She caught sight of us and waved us over. Nólad grinned, glancing at me briefly before leading me down into the courtyard.

"You look fabulous!" She squealed, reaching over and giving her brother a rib-crushing Big Sister hug before she turned to me. "And look at you! Gem certainly did a good job! Well done her." My eyes narrowed.

"I suffered for the best part of four hours and all you can do is praise my torturer?" 

"Just look at the results, though! You're a different person! I'll wager you'll be beating admirers off with a stick by the end of tonight." She said, with, I was sad to find, no trace of sarcasm whatsoever.

"If I'd known we were allowed to take weapons, I would have certainly taken mine. In fact, I think I'll go fetch it now." I turned to leave, but was swivelled round by her firm grip on my wrist.

  
"Oh no you don't. You're not going anywhere until everyone's seen how pretty you look." That was new. In my life, I'd been described as a great many things. 'Pretty' was not one of them. "Doesn't she look lovely, Cer?" The smile threatening to split her face in half had not grown any smaller. He nodded.

"Indeed, but I am not without sympathy. I have seen her 'Mother' the twins first hand, and am impressed you survived without any visual trauma." She glared at him, but it was the lovesick glare of one whom could never stay angry for very long. Especially since this night saw their engagement formally announced.

"Ooh! Here comes Celoril and Linwëlin!" Jen pointed to the main entrance where her brother and a stunning lady clothed in midnight blue regally descended the stairs.

"Why do you two match?" I asked Nólad, my eyes flitting over his brother's identical tunic. Jen grinned.

"They always do that. It's just a lot more confusing for everyone that way. Especially since we have so many from outside Eryn Lasgalen attending." The two approached us arm in arm, Celoril cocking his head to one side as he noticed my attire.

"How many did it take to tie you down for long enough to get that thing on?" He questioned. I crossed my arms over my protruding chest and treated him to a Look™. Linwëlin slapped his arm lightly.

"You must be Lady Yunalesca." She gave a dazzling smile. "The first person, let_ alone _the first woman, to draw with the Prince, even though there are rumours that in fact you _won_ the dagger match. A grand feat in itself, against Legolas." I shook my head.

  
"If I had won, lady, I would not have been forced into this contraption for the evening." I said with a smile. "And I'm sure everyone, especially the long-suffering Gem, would be a lot happier."

"I wouldn't say _that_, Yuna! After all that work Narin and I undertook to make you look like that!" Jen pouted.

"Well I think you look lovely." Linwëlin started again. "The colour brings out your hair beautifully. Tell me, do you hail from Lórien? As that is the only place I can think of that houses the silver-haired." I shook my head.

"I am not, as far as I am aware, but you must tire of me as quickly as I do. So…um…how long have you two been together?" The others merely stood in quiet amusement watching as I tried to make small talk, something I was never very good at.

"Four and a half centuries." She stated, giving Celoril a look. Elves certainly _did_ court for a long time… "We married within the year." I furrowed my brow, running over what she just said.

"You…you're _married?_." I asked Celoril in disbelief. Why, oh why did no one tell me things?

"Well…_yes_." He replied. "What, didn't you know?" I shook my head slowly.

"So you just conveniently forgot to mention that you were _married_, did you?" Linwëlin asked, fuming.

"Of course not!" He defended himself. "I just thought she knew!"

"Without you telling her?"

"Yes without me tellin-- no! I just sort of forgot…"

"That you were married?"

"No! That I had to tell her…"

"So where's Narin, then?" Nólad interrupted tactfully.

"I sent Firowen to get her." Jen grinned. "He's her escort. Even though _she_ doesn't know it yet."

"Oh look, there's Tengaar." I followed Linwëlin's gaze to where Tengaar stood, chatting to what looked form behind to be Lord Celeborn. She was radiant in white, setting off her dark ringlets perfectly, which were interwoven with snowy blossoms that looked to be lilies. She reached up to cover her mouth as she laughed, her eyes and nose scrunching up like a squirrel's, an expression that on anyone else would have been nothing short of cringeworthy. Of course this didn't apply to the marvellous Noldor Lady before me. I adjusted my corset almost self-consciously.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

The words blended together in my mind. I liked to think that we didn't get so eccentric as humans when they aged, but I seemed to have been proved wrong. I had been talking to…what was his name? I couldn't remember. He had set upon me with his views of something or another as soon as I made a move away from the main crowd. I felt like a piece of carrion preyed upon by the vultures of the court. I nodded, murmuring a faint sound of affirmation as he paused, probably waiting for some kind of signal that he had my undivided attention.

I saw her as soon as she entered the room. How could I not have? The uncertain glances around the room as she hobbled away from the centre of attention to where Jen and Cer stood. She was wearing a dress. I still was having trouble processing this. A dress. So I would have to go through with that hideous forfeit after all, if she wasn't going to back down. Then again, I suppose it was worth it. She looked out of place, yet blended in strangely well. She appeared her usual confident self, but I could feel her uncharacteristic shyness. It was obvious she hadn't worn a dress every day of her life, but at the same time, she looked strangely--

"My Prince?" It was the self-proclaimed philosopher. I blinked, tearing my eyes away from the group. "Forgive me, I'm afraid I must be leaving. I hope to continue our conversation later." He sketched a bow and was off, finally. I turned and headed towards them, Jen heralding my arrival.

"Legolas! Where have you been? You missed all the excitement!" Jen trilled.

"Excitement?"

"Oh never mind. Look!" She gripped Yuna by the shoulders and thrust her in my direction. "Doesn't she look fabulous?" She stated, more than asked.

"Perfectly. Um…" I trailed off at the Look™ that could have made Morgoth give up and go home.

  
"Well I hope you're happy." She seethed. She wasn't really mad. I could feel it. More like a sort of unrivalled sense of utter embarrassment that was less humiliating if it was vented as anger.

"I am, I think whomever was unfortunate enough to have to dress you has done a fantastic job." Her eyes narrowed to devilish slits.

"You just don't get it, do you? I am going to _kill_ you. And you have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy it."

"Oh you're just saying that." She grabbed the scruff of my tunic and pulled me towards her, lowering her voice in a scorching whisper.

"Two words, Mirkwood. Castrate, and _butter-knife_."

~*~ End Interlude ~*~

I sat primly, keeping as straight a back as I could manage when every instinct screamed at me to tear that damn corset off. Narin was on my right, Firowen on my left. We sat at the top of the table, the King one seat down at the head. Legolas was directly in front of me, with his brother opposite Narin and Ginger Dreadlocks to his left. Legolas had worn that damn silver suit from Lórien again. At least it looked like it. It was probably new, come to think of it. It was unlikely he'd ever wear the one he wore on the quest again. Even just before I left him I looked as if it could walk back to Mirkwood on its own, I hated to think what state it would be in now. His sandy blond hair was unadorned save for two small braids and a dirty great big silver circlet. I noted briefly that Aldaríon and Narin wore a similar one, only he seemed to fidget a lot more, and hers was a little more feminine.

I poked at my food. Any appetite I had had been thoroughly squashed to death by the evil contraption around my midriff. I looked up to find Legolas' pitying expression aimed at me. I glared straight back. Almost in slow motion I saw a hand reach down and pluck a grape from a bunch on a plate similarly resplendent with fresh fruits. It hurtled across that small gulf between us, over the tabletop garnished with waterfalls of linen, and landed squarely down my cleavage. I drew in breath sharply, eyes widening slightly. He looked mortified. Well, that was nothing. Unabashedly, and without taking my eyes from him, I placed one hand under my ample bosom and pushed it skywards, reaching down with the other and easing out the grape. I looked at it for a moment, then turned my attention back to him. He gulped visibly as I narrowed my eyes, then, placing it between my teeth, bit down hard. Oh, he was dead.

~*~

Dinner had been pronounced over, and I was loitering by the door, waiting for the opportune moment to make my escape. Just as I thought no one was looking, _he_ bore down on me, foiling any chance of escape. His black hair fell thick and straight to his shoulders. His face was unlined, yet chiselled. His prominent eyes intense and disconcerting. They seemed to give no hint of humour, temper, or mood, but were electrically intense at the same time

"My Lady." He said in a smooth, unaccented voice, that was far too deep to be anything resembling Elvish.

"You…you were one of the finalists." I couldn't help myself, I was too curious. "Might I ask, what is your name?"

"I am called Daeguerro." I took a mental note of the way he dodged the question 'what is your _name_' to instead give me an Aragorn-esque pseudonym.

"….Yunalesca." I replied after a while. A faint smile crossed his angular lips.

"Yes, I know who you are. How could I not? You are this year's true champion." I felt strangely flattered, but banished the feeling as swiftly as it came.

"I wouldn't say _that_."

"Ah, but there are many who would. Myself being one of them." He smiled again, the faintest of lines bracketing his mouth, as if the expression felt as foreign to him as it looked. It was a rather unpleasant experience talking to him, heightened by his blank mahogany eyes searching mine tirelessly. Luckily, I was rescued from this experience as I heard my name being called. I threw an apologetic look in his direction before sweeping off to whoever called me.

It was Legolas, having just been released from the clutches of Doom, formally known as Aryana Vailariël. She was resplendent in dusty lilac, which clung to her every fleshless bone like a garment stretched out to dry. If that wasn't enough, she was cornfield blonde. I suddenly felt self conscious about the way my hips flared out to almost the same width as my shoulders, whilst hers didn't seem to exist at all. I slowed as I approached, thinking of veering off to one side so I wouldn't be roped into talking with him. As if he could read my thoughts, he reached out and caught my wrist, swirling me around nicely so I ended up next to him, and pulled me towards the centre of the hall, where couples twirled elegantly to the music.

"Mirkwood, I swear, you let go of my wrist or I'll slap that grin right off your stupid face." Great, I was too confused to even insult properly. His grip didn't get any slacker, if anything it tightened. "Let me go, you little--Legolas! Please, _please_, I can't dance, you can't make me, _let me go_!" I could feel the now familiar nervousness bubbling up in my stomach. Amazing there was any room. "What part of _I can't dance_ did you not understand?" We were on the floor now, he ground to a halt in the midst of several couples.

"It's not that hard, really, I'm sure you'll pick it up." He said calmly. I hated him. I was sure of it now.

"Not without you loosing a few toes. For Eru's sake, Legolas, just bloody let go! I _can't_ dance! You've already humiliated me enough tonight." He looked almost regretful for a moment. A new tune started up. It was slower this time.

"Alright, this one's easy."

"_Cannot_ dance." I protested weakly.

"It's easy, you'll pick it up quickly. Just stand on my feet." I started.

"_What?_"

"Stand on my feet. Your dress won't let anyone see, don't worry."

  
"On your _feet_? Are you crazy? I'll crush you."

"You're not that heavy."

  
"And how would you know?"

"I've carried you before. Now hurry up before someone starts wondering what we're doing standing in the middle of the dance floor talking."

"That's _your_ fault!" I tentatively stepped onto his feet. My slippers were barely there, and I could feel him flex his boots beneath me. Without warning, he moved my left hand onto his shoulder, and as I almost toppled over steadied me with a hand at the small of my back. I tensed at the contact, but did my best not to show it, after all, he didn't seem to be aware that my cleavage was bobbing around just bellow his eye level. Just as he moved, I lost my balance again and was glad for his hand reaching out to grip my own. Then, his feet started moving slowly around the dance floor. I hoped we looked a little more normal than I felt.

"See? You're fine." I regained some of my composure.

"Well as long as I don't spontaneously combust with the looks that group in the corner's giving me, I'm sure I will be."

"By the way, I'm sorry." I crinkled my brow.

"For which part of this disastrous evening? The part where I had to wear a dress or the part where I got a grape _down_ said dress?"

"All of it. I'm sorry you feel embarrassed. Although, I can't see why you would be, I don't think anyone saw."

"Look what I'm wearing, Legolas, then ask me why I feel embarrassed." As much as I tried to make it sound as scalding as possible, the fact that I was smiling faintly as I said it -- much to my horror -- did not really add to the effect.

  
"Yuna, look around. Find me one female in here that isn't wearing a dress."

"Her." I nodded towards the door.

"Very good, except that's a man."

"Oh. Well he's from Lórien, you can never tell." Why was I in a good enough mood to even think about joking with this…this…philanderer…

"Besides, you look…good. Really good." I cocked my head at him, searching for a retort, but was cut off as he twirled me around in unison with the other couples in the hall.

"You…!" I finished lamely.

  
"Yes?"

"Just forget it. How long before this is over? Not that I care about your feet or anything, but I'd rather get back to my bed as soon as possible."

"Well, you're dancing by yourself now. And doing a rather good job of it, I must say, even if you are leading." I faltered for a moment, then looked down where his uncrushed feet were in plain view. I almost tripped over myself at the next move.

"Great, if you hadn't told me that, I'd be fine." I huffed.

"If you want to go now, no one's stopping you."

"No, that'd look a little weird, and I think your worshipers would set upon me in the hallway demanding why I left you by yourself."

"So a few more minutes couldn't hurt?"

"I guess."

~*~

"So are you ready?" I asked the Prince as we strode off the dance floor, though no where near quick enough for my liking.

"Ready for what exactly?" 

"Don't think I've simply forgotten about your end of our little deal." I turned to him, making sure I had his undivided attention. "Seeing as I have had to endure this torture device for over three hours now and have also been made to prance around like some hawking courtier, which, might I remind you was _not_ part of our agreement. You are going to have to declare your undying love for Firowen with far more _gusto_ then I am sure you previously hoped." He sighed. "Now let's go find the little blighter." I spotted him not to far away, surrounded by a cluster of pretty young things. Purposefully, I set off towards him, dragging Legolas in my wake. 

"Firowen!" I exclaimed as we neared him. He turned and looked puzzled for a moment before the expression was replaced by one of dread. "I think our Princey here has something to say to you."

"Oh, how wonderful." He said, deadpan.

"Go on, Legolas." I shoved him in front of the other blond and looked on expectantly. 

"…Firowen…um…I think I'm in love with…you…" He said, barely above a whisper. I could see the tips of his ears starting to turn crimson. 

"What's going on here?" It was Narin.

"Oh, nothing much. Your brother here just feels there is something he has to inform Firowen of, but a bit louder this time." I nudged Legolas in the ribs and nodded furiously. Around us the elf maidens closed in hoping they could make out what it was they hadn't heard the first time round. "…and maybe on one knee, Mirkwood?" I said, getting a sudden wave of inspiration. He looked at me as if to ask 'do I have to?' to which I glared the reply of 'yes you do'. After a moments hesitation, he knelt down and looked up into the now, very confused, face of Firowen. I assumed he was hoping that what he thought he'd heard the Prince whisper but a moment ago was simply a trick of the mind. Legolas cleared his throat.

"Firowen." He started, and much better this time I had to say. "There's something I feel I must tell you. From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the only one for me. Never in my life have I met someone with such passion, such character, such…" He was laying it on a bit thick. "…fire. I know now that to spend another moment of my life without you would be like dying a million slow, painful deaths. " Though perhaps he wasn't so good with words. "What I'm trying to tell you is I love you." That got a gasp from the ladies all round. "It is the kind of love that will go on through the ages, unchanging, undying. Forever." A slight sound escaped Narin's lips, but for the most part the world around us seemed to stand still.

"Good one, Legolas." Firowen chuckled, breaking the hushed air. "For the moment there I though you were being serious." He said with a hint of worry in his tone. 

"Yes…good one…" I echoed. The ladies around looked to one another, not quite sure of the situation. It was the kind of speech they'd dreamt about…with exactly the person they'd dreamt reciting it. But instead of them being the one with passion and…_fire_, it was the second choice. For two potential fiancées to have been knocked out in one go was unfeasible…wasn't it?

"What…why…um…" Narin trailed off. 

"Isn't it _magical?_" I clasped my hands together, trying my best not to retch right there and then at the tone of my voice. In ones and twos, the court ladies sidled off, throwing backward glances at the two. There was a fog of confusion milling around the two of them. My work here was done. I grinned wider. "Well that was spectacular. A great performance from the both of you." Narin looked in the pits of despair, Firowen looked pensive, Legolas looked deadly serious, and I was fleeing for the doorway. "Well, must be off, thanks for a _wonderful_ evening." And I was gone.

~*~

It was a scant few minutes later that I walked down the corridor leading to my room. Just as I made to turn a corner, I heard Tengaar ahead of me, and someone else. I stopped, hugging the wall discreetly as I waited for the right moment. It was probably nothing, but that wasn't the point. After a few seconds, I leaned around, my head still in the shadows, and wondered at what I saw. Tengaar just entering her room, with someone else in tow. But…it couldn't be…could it?

A.N. Was the wait worth it for this massive chapter? 11,138 words isn't bad considering in our first week back we've been bombarded with piece after piece of coursework (EVIL!) and have been too busy on weekends to even consider loading up the comp (which is being an almighty turd again, but what else is new?). Adding to all this, we have a brand new fic coming out soon! (By soon we mean after the CITS saga thingy) You'll have to wait until then to see what fandom it is, although we will be promoting it on a regular basis. Understandably, after a year we need something of a break from LOTR, and seeing as we've practically thought of every little thing that's going to happen in this right the way until it's COMPLETELY finished (as in after any sequels you evil people will make us write), we just needed something new to focus on. 

Reviews:

Lena, PepsiBob, Satori Blackthorn, Michelle, Melia, Tara6, sweet-legolas, Iariel, NYANKOCHAN, and anyone else we've forgotten: Thanks for taking the time to review, and don't worry, there will be a lot more Firowen, fluff, and general fic-ness. Sorry for keeping you guys waiting so long. ^_^

Elrohir fan: Elrohir rocks, doesn't he? And thanks for the shortest review in history! 3 words. Yay! (we're not being sarcastic. We get excited over the strangest things…)

AAR Rocks my socks: AAR, would that be the All American Rejects by any chance? (Who, by the way, rock) Anyway, Rai's in the process of revamping the fic, and, strangely enough, has got up to just before Moria. That might be why. =)

Sylvia Viridian: Aragorn? He's in Gondor as far as we can tell. Um…we're confused. Did you mean Daeguerro?

orange.blossom3: Sure, why not?

Melanie: We like your idea. A lot. It will be done. Probably in the very distant future, but nonetheless, it will be done. Éomer shall once more grace this fic with his manly presence.

Levanna: Us? Tense problems? Never! Rest assured we are now in the process of combing through the fic to make it a) readable, and b) grammar and spelling PERFECT! (Rai's a little obsessed). And about Firowen, everyone loves him anyway, and he's not going anywhere.

Iluvien: Thanks for those 5 or so reviews. About the suspicion thing. We feel that MS characters are given entirely too much benefit of the doubt, and if you were on a secret quest to save the world, would you trust Nurfea Springfrost (fully equipped with a fiery personality, hair to match, and the most beautiful violet eyes you'd ever seen) with your life after an hour of acquaintance? Pretty doubtful. It's just our twisted way of giving back to the cannon when we have taken so, so much.


	30. Façades

A delay, etc etc. Hectic life, blah blah, school, blah blah, coursework, blah blah, you get the idea. 

A.N. There _is_ The Kiss v1.0 in this chapter, as well as a rushed v 1.1

A thousand apologies for the delay. Won't go into the mushy details. This chapter, however, is about as fluffy as a guinea pig pulled out from a tumble dryer. Enjoy.

Man of the month: Billy Boyd (One very huggable Scotsman.)

Chapter Dedicated to: Us. Cos we've worked our asses off to get this chapter up, even though it's two months late. Also, the Rasmus. Who rock. A substantial amount. Haven't stopped listening to collection of 50-odd songs the entire week. They have been our little shove towards the keyboard. As compensation for the illegal download of said 50 songs, we are shamelessly plugging their album, Dead Letters. Get it. 

"...You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

'Cause sooner or later it's over

I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive..."

The Goo Goo Dolls ~ Iris (one of the best songs ever written, and a personal fave)

Chapter 30: Façades

"Hello, ladies." Firowen greeted suavely as he strode into the courtyard me Jen and Narin were sat in, trying desperately to achieve a moments peace from the influx of courtiers, who out of nowhere had began to renew their attack on the palace. As so often was the case, someone beyond the close circle of friends and family had got wind of the break up two days before. Within hours seemingly countless brainless, breastless, skinny twits had crawled out of the wood work, willing to do practically anything and everything to win the fair princes heart. 

"To what do we owe the honor?" Jen smiled, her honey blond curls glinting in the evening sun. She was still far too incased in the glow of pre-wedded bliss to continue her and Firowen's now seemingly pointless war. 

"Well." He replied, sitting down beside Narin and gently slipping an arm around her petit shoulders. I was tempted to grin my face off and squeal the words "By the Valor! That is _so_ cute!" but remembered I just wasn't that sort of a person. "It seems that there was quite surplus of alcohol left over after the banquet and I have subsequently managed to acquire a rather large amount of it."

"I like where this is going." I smiled. He slowly arched an eyebrow and turned his gaze towards me. 

"Somehow I never figured you for a drinker, Yuna." I regarded him for a moment. 

"I assure you, my dear, that I could drink you, Cer, Legolas, Celoril and Nólad under the table and still be able to stand straight in the morning." 

"And what makes you so cocky?" 

"Have you ever heard of this little race called Dwarves?"

"No, never."

"Very funny." I said, my clear it was anything but. "Well, once I had a very, shall we say, unfortunate 

encounter with them in the grandly named Mines of Moria. They made a deal that the only way they'd 

release me was if I could beat at least ten of them in a drinking contest. They like that sort of thing."

"So how many did you manage?" Jen inquired.

"Eight." I sighed." I might have actually beaten all of them had I managed to stay conscious. Tough little 

buggers those Naugrim, though I guess that was Aulë's intention. So where's this little gathering going to 

be held? "

"Well, it's just like before, in the clearing. Though now that I know what a seasoned professional you are when it comes to drink I'll break out some of my _special_ batch I've been saving for just such an occasion." I cringed at the image of a group of drunk elves in the middle of the forest. "There's just one _tiny_ little thing..."

"What?"

"Legolas wants to ask that Hix guy to come."

"...Oh..." I thought for a moment. "Why?"

  
"Something about 'no hard feelings,' though I suspect we're all just in for a night of awkwardness."

"You don't want to invite him?"

"It's up to Legolas, really, but I can see this not ending very well."

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Narin started empathetically, piping up for the first time. "He didn't seem to care when he told us, so maybe he won't care when he sees then together. In fact...he almost looked better. It's like if she didn't break it off, he would have."

"But...it just doesn't seem _realistic_..." Firowen pondered.

"That's what I thought, nothing's ever just perfectly mutual, don't you think, Yuna?" That took me a little by surprise.

"Um...no, not really, to tell the truth. I wouldn't exactly know."

And it was true. I had never had any admirers I'd consider taking seriously, and as a result, I'd never had to deal with the break-up that would inevitably follow. Although I suppose it did strike me as a little odd that neither party seemed negatively affected by the decision.

~*~

Was it a bad thing that I could barely see my own hand? I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, clutching the tiny glass of the most foul-tasting liquid I'd ever had the misfortune to have forced down my throat 'to help you relax', Firowen had said. Cer sat in front of me, eyes perfectly in the here and now, cool and calculating, despite having already reduced Nólad to periodically laughing at the mention of the word 'green', and Celoril having found refuge hurling in the bushes. I looked him square in the eye and took a swig, the foul liquor branding a trail down my throat. There was a plum seed floating in the bottle, a testament to its potency, all traces of the actual plum happily fermented away. I coughed, but forced the drink to stay down, refusing to lose to the other half-elf. There was a cheer from Firowen, my self-appointed manager as he sat behind, egging me on. Cer took another glass indifferently and downed it in one go, the only evidence of discomfort being the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth as he swallowed. My turn. If I took the next shot, it would be my eighth. I knew my limits, and my intoxicated state I was able to admit defeat.

"And this, I'm afraid, is where I stop." I said, forcing back a burp.

"Oh, but you were so close. Look, he's swaying!" Firowen pouted.

"If I drink any more of that _special_ brew of yours, I won't make it back to my room with my dignity intact."

"That's the _point_."

"Well, what about _you_? Why don't you finish him off, you've barely touched the stuff."

"...Me, oh no, I couldn't possibly. I'm the host, it just wouldn't be polite. Hix, come over here." The elf, who'd for most of the evening been sat talking funnily enough with Legolas, turned to face the two of us. Cer was just standing up and with great stability I had to say. Taking a total of three steps forward he proceeded with each to let his center of gravity slip just that bit closer to the floor until he was lying flat on his stomach. He lay, his hand twitching slightly, taking up a vast majority of the small clearing. With a squeal that pierced the ear drums and left my already tense senses reeling, Jen jumped up and, as the good fiancée she was, ran to his side. 

"What have you done to him!" Her words were slightly slurred and it was indeed a miracle that she'd made it over to him without tripping. 

"He'll be fine in a while." Firowen spoke, knowing full well that it was already difficult for me to get out a sentence, let alone defending myself to a thoroughly pissed Jen. "Now come on Hix, this girl needs a drink and Yuna's not going to have one unless you're sitting here in front of her." My nose, which seemed partially detached from my face at that precise moment, wrinkled in a long and arduous gesture as I thought to myself '_I do?' _He regarded me for a moment, his eyes meeting mine briefly. I winked at him smiled wolfishly, it was defiantly the alcohol. He smirked. 

"I think she's had quite enough already." Beside him Legolas was staring at me as well. 

"Nonsense." I sniffed, sitting upright once more and forgetting all mentions of limits. "Another twenty drinks and I could still kick your arse. Now come on, don't deprive an old lady of her liquor." He glanced briefly at he prince, was met with a arch of an eyebrow, and turned back to me once more. Nodding slightly, he stood up and made his way over to the small log opposite myself.

"The gentlemen has made a wise choice." Firowen put down two clean glasses and filled them up to the brim. I stared him in the eye, gripping the smooth surface of the glass. In perfect unison we downed the contents again, and again, and again. After four shots, the level of liquid in the bottle severely dwindling, I was not only thoroughly drunk but ready to do just about anything. And Firowen knew it. 

"Now how about we make this interesting." 

"Oh, I fink iz intwestin eogh." I struggled to keep my words understandable, not that it worked. 

"Come on, it's just a bit of fun." He continued innocently. I shrugged.

"Iz up to Hix." Firowen looked to the other blond. 

"I'm sure I'll regret this later, but why not." 

"In that case we might as well let everyone join in." He took down the bottle from the tree stump that acted as a crude table and stood on it. "Lords and Ladies, if I could have your attention for but a moment." Seven pairs of, in some cases very bloodshot, eyes turned to look at him. "_Saiyulna_ is about to begin." He said the word as if it were some dark mystery that only the small group of friends were privy to. There seemed to be a hint of a smile on everyone's lips but us two sat at odds and in little more than a minute they were all crowded around, even Cer who'd only just become conscious once more. Ten glasses were set, one for each person, and filled by the rather over enthusiastic novice of a barman that was Firowen.

"_Saiyulna_?" Hix questioned a moment before I did.

"The rules are simple really, the bottle spins around, and whoever it stops at gets to choose between answering a question, a glass, a forfeit, and in some rather _special_ cases," Here, he looked pointedly at Jen, although she didn't seem to notice, "Removing an item of clothing." The bottle was spinning in the center of the irregular circle we had formed before any of us had a chance to object. It landed, rather precariously, on Nólad.

"Nólad!" The contents of the glass in front of him were gone before a moment had passed. He gave us a tight smile after setting it back on the stump and set the bottle spinning once more. 

"Tengaar!" The elf seemed rather surprised and slightly horrified. 

"Oh...um...question?" She said uncertainly.

"What's the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?" Firowen asked intently. 

"Uh, well, it would probably have to be when I flashed the King of Gondor." There was a deep intake of breath by everyone excluding Hix and Legolas. 

"You what?" I questioned, wide-eyed.

"Well, I was riding into Rivendell after quite a long journey, and it wasn't like I knew who he was back then, how would I know he was going to become one of the most powerful men in Arda? But anyway, my skirt got caught in one of the saddle bags as I was dismounting and I kind of flashed him a very large portion of my thighs." I only barely managed to clamp my mouth shut in time before a shriek of laughter emerged when I pictured the little event. "It was far worse when I found out that he was probably going to be my uncle if everything went smoothly.." I cackled with laughter. She shrugged, a noticeably embarrassed smile still plastered on her cherub like face. "I guess it doesn't matter any more." The bottle was sent spinning once more. 

"Firowen!" 

"Oh decisions, decisions." He smirked, the fire casting sinister shadows spilling across his features. He chuckled lightly, a thought entering his head that was undoubtedly ungentlemanly. "However much I'd hate to disappoint you girls by not taking my clothes off, though I'm sure you already mentally undress me." Every single female in the group-including Narin-rolled their eyes exasperatedly. "It's going to be a drink for me...though than again, perhaps a truth is in order?" He looked to the group. Many a death glare was thrown his way.

"Just get on with it." Legolas said what I was sure everyone was thinking.

"Alright, alright." He brought the glass that had been poured for him up to his lips. "But perhaps..."

"Ahhh!" The outrage was unanimous.

"Okay, Hix, you hold his arms, Nólad, you get his legs and I'll shove that glass down his throat." The glass was emptied in less than two seconds and once again the bottle was sent spinning. 

"Yuna!" By now everybody, even Hix, had joined the chorus.

"Oh..." I uttered "Uh...well I don't trust myself to have another drink just now, or to confess anything and I don't trust you people not to force me to jump in the lake or something. Besides, this bodice is killing me...so, um." I stood up and reached for the string that was laced up the back. And just kept reaching. After spinning round a couple of times like a dog after its tail, I stopped, blinking a few times in hazed confusion. 

It had taken a very short amount of time for Narin to start laughing hysterically and Cer and Jen to start playing 'let's find each others tonsils!'. 

"Yuna."

"Uh huh?" I was still lamely reaching for it, though with a degree less enthusiasm.

"Would you like some help?" It was Legolas again.

"Oh, um, yeah." A lazy grin crossed both mine and Firowen's faces, though for somewhat different reasons. "I suppose you are the most qualified to help me in that area." It seemed as if all of a sudden a very large, very bright spotlight shone directly on the two of us. 

"What?" Eight voices questioned at once. A strawberry hue graced Legolas' features as he half guessed what I was implying. 

"Oh, don't worry, hun." I giggled, far to girlishly for my own liking. "I won't tell them about the little...incident near the Nimrodel." He shook his head – though his cheeks were still a perfect shade of crimson – got up and walked behind me. I stood there, one hand on my hip the other holding my ample mass of silver-gray hair. Within a few minutes the pressure around my chest was gone and the bodice gripped in Legolas' hand. "Thank you!" I sing-songed, dropping back down with a noticeable bounce. He smirked and returned to his spot. I reached out for the bottle and with the flick of a wrist it was a blur once more. 

"Narin!"

~*~

Two hours later and the evening had fizzled down. The twins were discussing something that I couldn't quite make out to the side. Jen, Firowen with his arms wrapped around Narin and Cer who seemed generally indifferent to everything (though what was new?) sat grilling Tengaar and Hix about his past and her future. And myself? I sat, my head firmly planted on Legolas' shoulder, staring intently at what I could see of the stars. He in turn was humming a song couldn't quite recognize, a bottle that was practically empty clutched in one hand. 

"Legolas?"

"Yes, Yuna?" He replied after a few moments, seemingly unwilling to break with the tune. 

"Can you feel it? He turned his head in an attempt to face me that never quite worked.

"Feel what?" 

"That queasy little feeling in the bottom of your stomach." He chuckled and shook his head before finishing the last dregs of the foul liquor.

"I shouldn't have let you drink so much."

"Nonsense, it's better this way." I took a few strands of his hair between my finger tips, idly twiddling it this way and that. "You can think so much clearer this way. Like Manwë's lent you his eyes for just one moment and there's nothing to stop you seeing into eternity. All of a sudden, there's no more mystery in the world."

:Really?" He said patronizingly.

"No." I replied with exactly the same wonderment as my previous statement. "I just thought it sounded deep." There was a few moments silence then: "Legolas."

"Yes, Yuna."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering whether I should rip all my clothes off and dance around the fire naked." My head whipped up.

"Really?!"

"No." He replied just as cool as he'd said his last statement. I tsked and lay my head back on his shoulder.

"You're such a tease, you know? You have all the women in Eryn Lasgalen and Eru knows where else chasing after you yet they know you're practically unattainable." I sighed. "It's pretty obvious why, though. You're strong, handsome, charming, maybe not as funny as Firowen but at least you're a perfect gentleman." I shook my head as much as my current position would allow. " I can't really blame myself, can I?" There was that silence again, but in my current state I didn't realize it was awkward. "I'm just going to sleep now, okay?" I never knew whether he answered of not, within a few seconds I was blissfully unconscious.

~* Interlude *~

"Yuna?" I shook her gently awake. Her eyes opened for a moment before shutting again. The others were leaving or had already left and I wasn't about to let her spend the night out here. "Yuna?" I tried once more.

"Uh huh?" She mumbled.

"We need to go." She was laying down on the ground, thoroughly incapacitated as I tried to make her sit up. 

"Just one more minute." She yawned.

"Yuna, please?" She wiped one eye before sitting up fully. She blinked once.

"You're an elf." She said in awe.

"Of course I'm an elf, Yuna." I pulled her up and put her arm around my shoulders. "So are you."

"No I'm not."

"Okay, half elf." I replied dragging her along the path.

"I have the best idea!" Yuna suddenly perked up. "Let's dance!" I looked at her in disbelief. I could hardly keep upright, my head was pounding and the girl who loathed dancing had picked this moment to try and learn. "Please." She asked, fluttering her eyelashes in a manner that in her current sate she probably thought was cute. 

"Yuna.'" I took her hand and started walking again. 

"Legolas." She pulled me back. Wrapping my arms around her waist she brought her own around my neck, resting her head on my chest.

"It's too late to stay out here, Yuna."

"Shhh..." Yuna looked up and put a slightly shaky finger to my lips. "Just a little while, I'm not ready to go back yet." Putting her head back, she started to rock gently side to side. The truth was even though I was thoroughly worse for wear, I, like her, was happy to stay. The way she was at that moment meant that she didn't put up all the defenses that made her so hard to get close to. But, was that for the best? What she'd said before...What did that mean? 

"Legolas...?" Yuna addressed me before I had time for any more contemplation, which was likely a good thing. 

"Yes."

"Have ever been in love?" She asked quietly.

"Haven't you asked that before?" She shrugged. "Besides, it wouldn't really matter to someone who doesn't believe in it." I hadn't really meant to say that, but it was true.

"I suppose so." Not that she seemed to care. There were a few quiet moments then.

"Legolas." I didn't see the point in answering. Yuna looked straight into my eyes with the most innocent expression I'd ever seen on her before pushing me aside and dashing off with a screech of: "Can't catch me!" 

~*~

We reached the palace a while later. I'd had to chase the miscreant half-elf until she finally became too tired to stand up, leaving me to drag her back. Soon, my knees had given in and now we were both leaning on each other, every step agonizingly slow. We both collapsed onto her bed -- I had realized that it would be smarter to take her all the way back, so she didn't end up passed out in the hall, woken up in the morning by a bewildered servant. I stood up again, every one of my sense screaming for me to stay lying down. I looked at Yuna, her legs still dangling off the side of the bed. With a sigh I lifted then onto it and rolled her over once just for good measure. Tugging a smaller blanket than the one that was beneath her from under her feet, I put it over her somewhat clumsily, ending up with myself kneeling close to her upper body. She looked peaceful, more so than I'd seen in a long time. Her eyes were shut lightly, her lips set in a small but blissful smile and her hair cascaded like a tousled pile around her tanned cheeks, accented with just a hint of cinnamon. 

It was the only time I had where I could see just her. Without the façade. And in that moment, she was everything. I bent down slowly as not to disturb her, and, as softly as I could, placed a kiss on her forehead. That was all I could remember. 

~*~ End interlude ~*~

The light drifted slowly in through the balcony, turning the insides of my eyelids a sickeningly pinkish colour. It was one of the rare times where I woke up with my eyes closed, and, to be frank, I was scared to open them. Never in my life could I remember having a more perfect night's sleep. The copious amounts of alcohol I recalled consuming meant that the dreams that plagued me the previous weeks had been subdued. But that alone was not the reason. The comfort of sleeping in the arms of another person was. The worse thing was that I hadn't a clue as to who it might be. The last thing I remembered of the night before was...oh Valar. Even the thought of it was enough to make me feel queasy. Though that might have also been the hangover. Sitting next to Legolas, saying things that I wasn't even sure I'd meant. But it was too late to take them back.

And now I was stuck with...Firowen? He was probably the best to hope for. I might get some sort of telling of from Narin, but in the end she'd understand. It might have been Narin herself, but she had still been fairly sane by the end of the night. At least...as far as I could remember. She would have made it back to her own bed if indeed she'd wanted to sleep. So who was left? One of the twins? Nólad was far too shy, or at least I hoped so. And Celoril would get a rather severe scolding from his wife. Who did that leave? ...Hix? For Tengaar's sake, I hoped not. Only one way to find out. I bit my bottom lip and opened one eye. Only ceiling. With a deep breath I opened the other and shifted my head slightly to make out the person to my left.

"Nghf!" I sat bolt upright.

"What is it?" Legolas sat up beside me.

"What are you doing in my bed?" I screeched. '_Valar, never thought I'd have to say _that_ again...'_ "Staring at me..." My voice was far too high pitched for the both of us. It was also then that I noticed my mouth tasted like something died in it. Then again, judging by the alcohol, that was a distinct possibility.

"Um..."

"Huh?" I demanded, before common sense caught up with me. "But of course you're an elf...you sleep like that all the time..." I cleared my throat. "Not that that explains what you're doing here..." I said primly.

"I...uh...took you back—"

"_You_ took _me_ back?" I scoffed. "From what I remember, you were in much the same state as I last night. It seems, _Mirkwood, _that you can't handle your drink. So I severely doubt that you'd be able to drag me all the way back here." He seemed fully awake now. Though a scolding from me first thing in the morning was enough to do that to anyone.

"Why are you being to defensive, Yuna?" He looked me straight in the eyes, I felt my resolve slipping...I felt like screaming '_why? Because I've made an utter fool of myself. And I seem to do that a lot around you...'_ It could have been so simple, all I had to do was keep my mouth shut. But I couldn't even manage that. "If you're worried about what you did last night, then you don't have to be. We all said things, did things we didn't mean, and you of all people should know that it doesn't matter in the morning." There was silence for a moment. "_It's all in the past, alright?_"

"Alright," I said, and was amazed I'd been half convinced.

"Now that only thing that does matter is how you managed to rope me into staying the night with you." My mouth fell open.

"_You..._" He had his arms up before the pillow hit him. Of course, the pillow being one of those extra-sensitive types, sent a multitude of small white feathers spilling over the two of us. We sat there for a moment, looking like an odd pair of chickens before he got out of the bed.

"I should..."

"Yes..." I nodded. He walked towards the door, a small trail of white drifting behind him. He paused, turned around with a smirk and said:

"Pleasure."

"Get out of here before I find my blade and use your pretty blonde self to polish it." And with that he was gone, leaving me to my tempestuous thoughts.

~*~ Interlude ~*~

The door closed quietly behind me, I leant my weight on it for a moment, sighing due to nothing in particular. No, that was a lie, there was definitely something. Everything seemed so muddled up all of a sudden.

Yuna. It was always about her these days. Everything she did made me question myself just that little bit more. People had already mentioned it, how different I seamed since I'd come back. So coy, so unsure. And now I knew exactly why.

Her. It was always about her. Everything I said, everything I'd done had been a feeble attempt to try and understand her. So in the end I could better understand the effect she had on me. I'd never been like this before. It's true what they say about close friends. The more you're around them, the more like them you become. It was no different for Firowen and I. When we were younger, we'd built up quite a reputation amongst the young ladies of Eryn Lasgalen. But Firowen had never let women change him, but I had. 

Tengaar, when I met her, I was so sure she was the one. In my mind, there might as well have been no other women but her. So, I grew up, hoping she'd see me as someone she could spend the rest of her life with also. In hindsight, perhaps that was what had started to drive her away in the first place. But that was nothing compared to what was happening now. My confidence had been reduced to shreds, if only because I had no idea how to read Yuna. There were subtle signs, of course. Body language, a slip of the tongue. But it was also clouded, like trying to figure out a puzzle blindfolded. You only had one sense to rely on, and even that you could hardly trust.

But that was the point, wasn't it? She never let anyone too close, and there was no point in me thinking I was an exception. It was doubtful I'd ever see the true her. The one I hoped...no. No, I couldn't let a few drunken lines destroy me. I couldn't live each day hoping she might give me a sign that my sentiments were not misplaced. I couldn't let another woman change me. Not so soon after the last one. I had to find myself again. And if that meant letting her go, so be it. I took my weight off the door and was about to head down the corridor before I saw an overly familiar face.

"What have we here, Greenleaf?" Firowen said, wide-eyes. "Do my eyes deceive me, or have you indeed just exited a certain Lady's room?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"You should know me better by now, Firowen." It was a lame defense, however true.

"Oh you don't expect me to give up that easily. Not when I can make use of this for both of you for a good while."

  
"If that is your wish," I said, unwilling to talk about it, even with him. "Though it _was_ entirely innocent. If you'll excuse me." I turned on my heel, and headed for my room, thankful he had enough sense not to come after me. 

~*~ End interlude ~*~

Three days had passed rather uneventfully since That Night. And I'd spent them more or less in the comfort of the palace's library. There were enough books and scrolls in there to keep me interested for weeks, and I felt it would be a shame if I'd left without reading at least some of them. Not, of course, that that was the entire reason. I was determined not to face Legolas until I'd come to terms with what I'd said. Even if that took a while. I figured the less places I went where I could bump into him, the better. And as he seemed to have pretty much the same idea, I was utterly sure I wasn't just being paranoid. I sighed and shut the book I was reading. Having lost most, if not all interest in it two chapters back. That was it. I was sick of staying cooped up in here. If I met him, so what? Maybe I had meant what I said, but what did it matter? I was a fool if I was to let a few drunken words destroy what friendship we had. Getting up out of the chair that I'd left quite a deep imprint in, I left the large musty room.

Where to now? I didn't particularly feel like talking to anyone, but where did that leave me? Amroth, of course. With Valandil gone, and the attention from the tournament at least dwindling a little. There was no one there who would bother to disturb me. With that thought, I headed down the corridor, and within ten minutes found myself within the aforementioned stables, brushing bits of straw from Amroth's flank. The horse, never one to turn down attention of any kind, kept turning his head towards me in an attempt to nibble off my sleeve. The place was, for the most part, quiet. A neigh from the horses or sounds of a far-off conversation the only thing to break the silence. There was a pair of feet drawing near, but I ignored them. It was probably just a stable hand in any case. Bad move.

"Yuna?" I turned quickly to see...

  
"Oh, Legolas, hello." I said, beaming. Damn, damn, damn, my head screamed. Though I still managed to maintain the utterly false smile plastered to my face. "Where have you been the past few days?"

"Oh, my father needed me to take care of a few things. You?"

"Oh, um, just enjoying your fabulous library." The corners of my mouth hurt. I was standing there, being completely obvious about tying to make the best of an utterly hopeless situation. Whereas he seemed pretty much...fine. He didn't even need the false smile. He was, as far as I could tell, completely indifferent to the situation. Stupid elf.

"I was just about to go for a ride. Would you care to join me?"

"Sure!" I said, as if he'd just offered me eternal happiness. 

"Good. There's this place I want to show you.

~*~

We had arrived a scant few minutes after we left. The 'place' I specified was frequently visited by many, from the palace and village alike, although it was deserted for the afternoon. It was a rather cliched piece of scenery overall, consisting of a cascading waterfall, no more than ten feet in height, ending in a tiny estuary surrounded by foliage that trickled into a meandering stream. The water came from a spring in the mountains, and was perfectly clear, skimming over the rocks that blocked its path. We sat on the bank overlooking the frothy surface of the water below, her legs dangling over the edge of the drop.

"So, why are we here again?" She asked suddenly, not having said a word since our arrival, merely surveying the area with a barely perceptible smile gracing her lips.

  
"A lot of people think this is a nice place, and frankly so do I. I thought I'd show it to you before you left." It was the truth. I had wanted to show it to her earlier, but the time had never been quite right. My thought that she might be more comfortable in a thoroughly deserted forest area seemed to be correct, as she took on a relaxed posture that stiffened ever so slightly after my last sentence.

"Who says I'm leaving?" She said guardedly.

"Narin, seeming rather distressed."

  
"Oh..."

"So are you?" I asked after a while.

"I can't very well stay here forever can I?" There was a long moment, where I chose to remain in silence, hoping she would get the message. "Besides, I need to see for myself what, if anything, is happening in Fangorn."

"So you will leave me again with so many questions?"

"What do you mean?" She said after a pause, turning her head to look at me.

"You have to admit that we've known each other for quite some time now, and even though I feel I know you...I don't. Not really."

"I'm not a very easy person to get to know" She said matter-of-factly.

"I know. But I also know that in the end it'll be worth it." I said it before I could stop, then scolded myself for having qualms about voicing my opinions in the first place. After all, it wasn't as if the sentence could be taken differently, could it?

"What do you want to know?"

"What happened to your parents, you never really told me."

"I never really told anyone, but I guess you've earned the right to know." She sighed, turning to stare into the water below. "I told you before that my father was from Gondor. But he wasn't just an ordinary peasant, not even an ordinary soldier for that matter. In fact he was considered nobility." She laughed without humour. "Curiosity overtook me a scant twenty years ago, and I traveled to the White City to trace what I could of his – and my – lineage."

"And...?"

"It turns out that I had a certain, if not somewhat obscure, relation to the very person who had benevolently agreed to help me."

"And who would that be?"

"A prince in all but name."

"If it is the young Faramir you speak of, then you are mistaken. He was granted the Princedom of Ithilien by Elessar."

"He deserves it." She said quietly, another small smile working its way onto her face.

"And...Luccrecía? What do you know of her?"

"My mother was beautiful. I remember that much. She said she was born and raised in Lórien, about the same age as the Lady Celebrían. In fact, if I remember correctly, she was her handmaiden, or something to that extent. When Celebrían went to Rivendell, she accompanied her, and that is exactly where she met my father. He'd come with others to propose an alliance between Elves and Men.

"They fell in love. I suppose there was nothing that could stop it. They were married within the year and moved to Gondor at the height of Sauron's hostilities. To, of all places, a quaint little village just off Osgiliath. A short while later, I was born. Any joy was short lived, however. When I was scarcely old enough to remember it, the village was attacked as Sauron's armies advanced.

  
"I remember him galloping away, and the two of us fleeing for our lives into the night. The guards had tried to help, but all they could do was hope their miniscule efforts could waylay the attack for a short while so that we could get away. My mother didn't stop running, not until she was sure we were safe, even if that did take us all the way to West Emnet in Rohan. Five years later we received news that my father was dead – killed in action, I suppose I should be vaguely proud of that.

"We received a sum fitting for his status, though my mother was inconsolable and money was just another hassle to her. Besides, money wouldn't bring back my father. A year later, and it was obvious to everyone that cared that she was at death's door. She too knew she wouldn't last much longer, and so I suppose she did the only thing she was able to do for me at that current time."

"She sent you to Fangorn." My voice sounded unusually loud after her monologue.

"Yes. She even managed to take me there herself and make sure I was taken care of. Even though I never heard from her again, I wasn't ready to accept that she was dead for a very long time. My first trip to Imladris saw me meet Lord Halfelven. He and his wife seemed to remember my mother, and they helped me come to terms with my rather...special situation. It wasn't easy, but I've never been one to promote my own self-worth and sacrifice, so I'll stop pouring my little tormented heart out. I've had a far better life than most, I'm still breathing, for one, although I'm sure that's somewhat hypocritical considering how much I despise immortality."

"I still don't understand that. Most Men would do anything to have our years."

"Everyone, no matter what the race, desires that which they cannot have. You say Men desire immortality? And also perhaps strength, maybe freedom? Well I wish for nothing more than to have lived with my family, and mourn their passing until I found a distraction or was freed from this life by the sting of mortality. And yet I was gifted with the former, rather than the latter."

"Your philosophies intrigue me, yet I suppose you must have had much time to ponder over such things."

  
"But not you, I'll wager. Too busy being shadowed by that Aryana stick insect?" I shuddered visibly. Her image was not one that brought me great joy.

"The moment she came of age she's been at my heels like a rabid blood hound."

"No one's died of _too much_ love, you know." I chuckled.

"At one point I suppose I would almost have agreed with you. Perhaps death would have been preferable to the tittering in the corners of the halls. Do you know one of them – Valar, I think it may have actually been Aryana – was boasting about how I _smiled_ at her once, as if I'd just asked her to give me an heir."

"Well, _did_ you lead the poor girl on?"

"_No!_ I was having to be polite to everyone, which involved a lot of smiling, and she just happened to throw herself in front of me." She laughed. A sound I was glad to hear more and more often.

"Poor, abused Princey."

  
"It's _not_ funny." I said seriously, she subtly bit down hard on her bottom lip to prevent what was probably a snort from escaping at the absurdity of the situation. "It's not fun being the eldest heir to a throne that isn't going to be mine any time this age, or the next for that matter."

"I thought you didn't want to become king?"

"I don't. I just wish those vultures would realise that. It's not as if they're after me for anything _other_ than the throne."

"Well, ever since last week you've been top on the list of eligible bachelors in the kingdom. I'm not deaf to the constant giggles and chirping about your new state of singledom, and I'd watch out if I were you."

"Why? Afraid They'll hug-tie me and carry me off somewhere?"  


"I wouldn't put it past Them. And I'm sure you've seen far worse. It's a wonder you didn't just give in early on and marry one to get them of your back." I chuckled.

"No. My mother would never have allowed me to do so. She always said that if ever I was to consider marrying one of Them, she'd march me straight here and dunk my head in the water until I came to my senses."

"Sounds like my kind of woman."

"You don't know the half of it. She was the only one that dared to boss my father around, and that was a right she took full advantage of. She insisted I marry a nice princess somewhere who'd give her thirty odd grandchildren. She was, uh, something of a traditionalist."

"What happened to her?"

"I cannot say, myself, for I have never felt the longing for the sea as strongly as she. Perhaps you have, and maybe then you can understand why she left, but I cannot. I may _know_ why, but I cannot feel her pain at remaining in the Greenwood. I had never seen her so happy as the day she bid us farewell. It is not her fault, though, and the fact that I know I shall see her again banishes any mournful thoughts I may once have had. When I journey to the Grey Havens and take the ship to Valinor, I may then know her peril at being forced to stay here and raise her young child. She refused to leave before he understood why she had to. Her commitment to Aldaríon was just one of the many things I so admired about her." Something clicked behind her eyes as I spoke.

"Do you love Aldaríon?" She asked suddenly, the question certainly unexpected.

  
"Well...of course I do. He is my brother, after all. You know I only jest when I speak of him as something I found on the bottom of my shoe." She shrugged.

  
"Well, that wasn't the impression he gave me when he decided to sneak into my room to get his grubby little hands on my sword." My eyes widened.

"You didn't—"

"No I didn't mortally wound him, only scold him a little. By the by, there isn't a large sign plastered on my forehead stating: 'Please unload your troubled mind here,' is there? I'd barely _looked_ at him before, and suddenly he starts to tell me of his anguished childhood now that you seem to have no more time for him." I furrowed my brow.

"He told _you_ that?" I asked, stunned. "Why didn't he just tell me?"

"Oh, I forgot. I wasn't supposed to tell you. He doesn't want you to think of him as weak." She said flatly. "He admires you, you know. Think about it, it can't be easy having your praised, heroic, princely, blond self as an older brother. He misses his Nana as well, though I suppose that's to be expected."

"But...there are plenty of elves his age for him to be friends with, why should he feel lonely?" She sighed, and gave me a look.

"Tell me, Legolas, would _you_ want to be friends with most of the over-fed, over-paid and overly pathetic offspring of the Nobles? That's exactly what _I_ thought you were when I first saw you at the council."

"And have I proven you wrong?" I asked, keen to change topic. I had no idea that my brother felt so neglected, and vowed to seek him out when I had some time on my hands to re-affirm our relationship. Yuna cocked her head to one side in thought.

"I suppose so, though it'll still take a little while for me to forgive you." I quickly ran through the list of things I could have done to anger her and came to a conclusion.

"I can't help my hair colour, you know."

"You're only saying that because you can't think of a decent excuse."

"My mother is blonde, my father is blond, so it only seems logical that I would follow some sort of pattern."

"That still doesn't excuse you." I finally processed her earlier words.

"Wait, you thought I was over-paid and pathetic when you first saw me?"

"Well of course. The first thing you did upon noticing my existence was to make a stick-up-the-arse comment about that four foot shrubbery that accompanied the fellowship."

"And you responded in kind, as I remember." *(see bottom if you don't remember)*

"Hey," she argued, "That retort was _inspired_, I didn't miss a beat, and I'll bet I had you wondering for the rest of the council about whether I spoke of the race or the gender." I laughed.

"Then you know me far too well, for I must admit I could not wholly concentrate on the fate of Middle-Earth that afternoon."

"But I suppose you _have_ proven me wrong." She gave me a sincere smile, no façade or mask to hide behind, just her. "You're one of the very few I count as a good friend, and I thank you for giving me a reason to stay in this mortal-infested earth." She chuckled, though it sounded forced, as if she felt she had to if only to take a measure of the seriousness from the situation.

"Do you really have to leave? I know you want to visit Fangorn, but there is nothing stopping you from returning here afterwards. Unless of course you don't want to—"

"No." She said quickly. "No of course not. I know. Narin's made it more than clear that I'm perfectly welcome here. In all actuality I'll probably return to freeload some more of your hospitality before I leave for Valinor."

"I'll go with you." I said, once again kicking myself for failing to think before I spoke. She froze, mid reply and turned, ever so slowly, to face me.

"What?" She asked simply.

"I wish to see my mother again as well." I said by way of a reply. "So does Narin, and Firowen expressed an interest in leaving these shores some time in the next decade or so to begin setting up a kingdom in Valinor when father sails—"

"I know, I know. '_I doubt he's going to let a little thing like there being no kingdom prevent him from being King.'"_ She said, sounding as if she was quoting a well-known statement. I nodded.

"Besides, I couldn't let you go on your own. They don't just _give_ those boats away, you know. And who would you talk to during the voyage?"

"Fine, I suppose I could let you tag along," She said jokingly, thankfully seeming to forget my earlier slip of the tongue. There was a moment of silence, which, I reflected, was not entirely uncomfortable. "And what about me?" She asked, her face once again devoid of pretense. "What did you think of me when you saw me at the council?"

"You may think I thought you a great many things. Rude, uncouth, curt, even barbaric. That was certainly the general opinion floating around at the time. But it wasn't so for me. I merely saw you as truthful, if a little blunt and tactless. You said what you thought, without feeling the need to glaze it over. I respected you mostly. Many thought you insolent, yet none dared to say it until you were well out of sight. Even then the Lord of Imladris was quick to put them in their place on your behalf. That you could command the respect of Elrond surely accounted for something. He said you had your reasons, and I have been curious ever since. I thank you for indulging me by answering my many questions." She was quiet, and for a moment I thought I had upset her until she spoke in a low tone.

"Know this: there are very few that I would unconditionally trust with my life, and far, far fewer of those that I would trust with my secrets. Especially those concerning my past." I was unsure what she meant by the ambiguous statement until she clarified by adding with a smile: "You're very welcome."

~*~ Interlude ~*~

The talk at the waterfall two days earlier had cleared the air with Yuna. Not only that, I felt as if she was no longer hiding. She trusted me. Now I knew I had to do the same. I already trusted her with my life and some of my secrets. But the thing that was hardest to give still lay with me. But I knew that sooner rather than later I had to take that leap of faith. But it would be in no way be easy. 

I'd wanted to do it after we'd got back, but almost immediately I'd been called away by my father who'd already had me doing somewhat meaningless errands for the past three days. I had an inkling he meant something by it, but I was too preoccupied thinking of how to admit my feelings to fully muse over it. By the time I'd finished the last the tasks my father had insisted I do, it was already late at night. I felt rude going to knock for her at such an hour, knowing full well that her sleep had been patchy of late. But I couldn't stand another day anticipating her reaction to what I had to say. 

I got to her door, knocked on it and waited for an answer that never came. After a while I knocked again but got the same response. Deciding that I would talk to her first the next morning, I turned to leave. And stopped. There were sounds coming from inside, none pleasant. I could make out a muffled groaning followed by a very loud crash that I identified as a vase smashing. 

"Yuna." I said, unsure whether to enter or not. Once again, no answer. "Yuna." I tried again, this time pushing on the door. It didn't budge. I looked at the handle in disbelief. It couldn't be locked, she didn't have the key, neither did she need it. A scream full of terror emitted from the room. "Yuna!" I shouted and pushed at the door again. It opened an inch before snapping back shut. The sound of a rather amount of glass smashing only served to add to my panic. "Yuna, open the door!" I tired pushing it again, full force. It gave way with ease and I tumbled into the room. It was black, aside from the slivers of moon light filtering in through the curtains. Some bounced off the many shards of glass that lay scattered on the floor, they having once made up the mirror above the vanity. She stood leaning on the aforementioned object, her body racked by gasps and shivers. "Yuna..."I whispered. She tensed immediately and stood bolt straight. After a moment she turned in one swift motion, her eyes meeting with my own. 

They were black. More than that. It was as if there was nothing there, just emptiness where they should be. I gasped and tried to pull my gaze from them but found I couldn't. Slowly and shakily, a broad smile started to form on her face that had a hideousness about it. I swallowed and tried to get to my feet, having ended up in a sitting position after crashing through the door. Upon returning upright, I took a cautious step forward, not wanting to scare her. She looked to my feet then back at my face. Her head cocked to the side, the grin still firmly placed. In a moment, she'd raced to the open door and out into the corridor. "Yuna, wait!" I shouted after her. I got out into the hall but she was already out of sight. Without a moments hesitation, I went after her, heading in the direction I assumed she'd fled. 

Minutes later I found myself out in the courtyard, pebbles crunching beneath my feet. Up ahead I could here muffled gasps and the sound of flesh pummeling flesh, though it was obvious that one person was coming out worse in the battle. After the thump of a rather large something hitting the ground, there was the sound of someone leaving the scene into the surrounding forests. I got to the gates soon after and put rest the mystery of a fight I'd only heard. The bodies of two Elvish guards lay strewn at the either side of the palace gates. One lay thoroughly unconscious and twitching slightly, the other was doing his best to try and stand up. I strode over to the later, patted him on the shoulder causing him to wince slightly and told him not worry, that I'd go after her. 

~*~

It was a while before I found her, standing in front of the large plunge pool at the bottom of the waterfall we'd visited two days earlier. What had possessed her to come here was beyond me, but I was glad she'd stopped running. Her toes dangled precariously over the edge of the steep bank that led down into the rippling water and it seemed to me that she was swaying slightly. 

"Yuna." I called to her quietly from where I stood a few feet away. She turned to face me, her hair a disheveled cloud around her face. The black pools met my eyes again, but the rims of her eyelids were red and puffy, the trails of tears etched along the slight covering of dirt on her face. 

"Legolas." She said in a voice barely above a whisper. Yuna blinked, her eyes returning to their usual emerald before she seemed to lose all strength and toppled backwards over the banks edge. There was a splash as she hit the water and in an instant I'd followed her into the murky depths. I desperately tried to get a hold of her and after a moment of searching blindly, grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged her up. She gasped as we broke the surface but didn't have the energy to keep herself there. Wrapping one hand round her waist I struggled with her to the banks a little way off that were more worn down than the rest. When we emerged from the water she was fully in my arms, her body limp. I collapsed with her a little way from the waters edge and shook her in attempt to make her gain consciousness. 

"Yuna?" I called to her but there was no answer. This couldn't be happening, she was too strong to let this happen to her. "Yuna, wake up." I said my voice cracking. The situation seemed somewhat similar to the one a few days previous, though with one horrible difference. She just wasn't responding. "Yuna, I'm begging you wake up." I could hardly breath, my heart was racing and I had no idea what to do to bring her back. "I can't lose you, not when I've finally realized that you mean everything to me." There was silence. "Yuna I..." She coughed, her body shaking

"Legolas..." She said, her eyes opening lazily. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her shivering frame, drawing her as near to me as I dared. My hand cupped her cheek of my own accord and I reveled of the smoothness of her slightly damp skin, in places marred by faint scares. Her breath had become level and her eyes bored deep into my own, a lingering expression of terror painted on her features, slowly being replaced by an unidentifiable one. I wanted to tell her that it'd all be alright, that she had nothing to fear, but instead I did something I knew I'd regret but somehow didn't care. I blanked out for a moment and the next thing I new my lips had met her own in a long, lingering kiss that to my surprise she seemed to be returning. She pulled away suddenly, leaving me anticipating a swift slap or at the very least a scathing comment punctuated as she so often threatened by the words 'castrate', 'butter knife' and 'you'. But before she could say a word, and with a thoroughly bemused expression gracing her face, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.

A.N. ** Extract from chapter 2 – Misguided (i.e. the first thing they say to each other):

** She felt Legolas lean in and say: "Dwarves." In a demeaning whisper only Elvish ears could hear. 

"_Men._" She replied in the same dull tone, trying and succeeding to shut him up and divert his attention elsewhere. After a moment or two, Legolas resumed his original position, a look of perplexed curiosity painted on his face. **

(See! We had this WHOLE thing planned out from the start!)

Score! As for the valentine's day special (which you're getting at the end of April, screw dates), we think you can guess what's going to be in that...;). Anyway, to a) buy us some time, and b) make us feel loved, we are doing something we promised ourselves we'd never resort to. We're holding the next chapter for ransom. Until we get at least 20 reviews (and we know you can do it – you people have done it before) or replies via e-mail to our next point, this chapter will remain in its useless state on Rai's EVIL comp. *cackles*

On to the next thing.

We're in the process of putting together a cast page for the CITS characters. We have almost everyone sorted, apart from Firowen and Yuna. Unfortunately, the top choice for the part of Firowen (namely the yummy Heath Ledger) has been snatched by another character. We've thought long and hard about Johnny Depp, but he's too butch (Not for a second saying that's a bad thing of course), and we need your help! If you have any suggestions for the part of Firowen, please let us know. The best we've got at the moment is Cary Elwes (a younger version – around 1987-92 when he did the Princess Bride), mostly for personality but also because he's cute. As for Yuna, we have a few people down, but if you have any suggestions, they'll probably be better than ours, and would be most welcome.

Thanks!

Reviews:

Levanna: Thanks, we tried to make Yuna into an actual person instead of some unbelievably pretty warrior-sue who can take down five dozen Orcs without breaking a sweat. Her personality is a mixture of the two of ours, so you can get a pretty good idea of the level of weirdness injected chapterly into this fic ;)

Michelle: If you like long chapters, this one should be adequate. Enough fluff for you?

Tara6: Tengaar's out of the picture (or is she....? No, she's gone...)

Satori Blackthorn: That's what I thought. Why, indeed, _how_ could one cheat when you've already got the image of male perfection? Though I suppose even he could get boring.....oh, screw it, who am I kidding? Let's just say she had a temporary fit of insanity, decided she was a lesbian, and that Legolas was far too manly for her.

Karvian: ASAP, huh? Sorry about that ^_^

Kungfu kitty: Cool name.

RobynPepsiGoddess1: *wuggles back* Thanks for the pep talk, and keep reviewing. You people are the only reason this story isn't discarded at the bottom of a mouldy pile of coursework.

Lilena: Not one, but _two_ kisses in this chapter. Be grateful, dammit!

Sweet-legolas: EVIL EVIL Tengaar's gone, and now the 'good bits,' as you say, are about to begin.

Tarvalie: Thankies for reviewing. You're one of our regulars, aren't you?

Arcamenel: I didn't think anyone would actually get that...in fact, I think you're the only one. But you're completely and utterly right. You don't, by any chance, cling to Rai's window while we talk about this things and take notes, do you? To sum up, cos we're impatient to post this, we love you, want to have babies, blah, blah, blah, Firowen's ours, get your fangirly mitts off him, blah, blah, blah...

Iariel: Here you have it. Here's the nice little beacon of happiness in the sea of stubbornness and mixed feelings. Enjoy! Or, considering this is at the end, hope you enjoyed it!

Brynne: Once again, here's the bit of romance.

Melanie, SunXia, Linzi, Marpessa: Thanks for reviewing, here's the update.


	31. Deception

A.N. I said before that I thought Rai had given up on this fic but I realise now that I was completely wrong. I read over the last ten chapters or so just to get a sense of where we were in the story (I saw Nolad's name and was like…_who?)_ and I realised that I barely recognized a couple of paragraphs per chapter that I'd actually written. Rai had done the rest. I'd like to think that partially it was because I didn't have a computer but I know that doesn't completely excuse me. I also noticed how genuinely funny the fic is and that I really didn't want to finish it by myself. I can't solely write Yuna because she's a collaborative creation. I need my bumpkin to help me with that fabulous sharp sarcastic wit because frankly I'm crap at it and without it, it's not Yuna. So, what do you say Rai? gets down on one knee, fic in hands sniff will you be my beta reader? You know how horrible I am. The fact that I always leave out words. So, what do you say?

She said: 'Ahh, I adore this fic and if you ever thought that there was any way in hell,arda, or earth that I'd let you even think about considering maybe starting itagain without me then you're very, very wrong! I've been sort of half wantingto continue it for ages now, but I thought that you didn't really want to getinto it again, and I didn't want to do it by myself. I know that we don't seeeach other as much as we used to so writing it will be harder, but now thatyou're all online and stuff, we can make this thing happen. I'd be more thanhappy to be your beta reader, even your co-author again if oyu want me to. Ilove the chapter you sent me, and just reading it makes me so nostalgic andsuddenly I'm remembering my love for Yuna and LOTR. I don't care what I'm doing,I'll MAKE time for Yuna! Love you forever and always Rai' 

So now we're back together like some weird separated couple and it's fab and we're gonna finish Yuna! Enjoy!

_'…'Cause I am hanging on every word you say _

_And even if you don't want to speak tonight  
That's alright, alright with me  
Cause I want nothing more than_

_to__ sit outside Heaven's door  
And listen to you breathing  
It's where I wanna be…'_

_Breathing Lifehouse_

Chapter 31: Deception

Yuna's utterly drenched body slumped in my arms, I painstaking made my way back to the palace, finally collapsing on the bed in my room. Hers was a complete mess, as were we. I reeked of scummy water and she had a colourful assortment of twigs and other bits of shrubbery that I had no particular wish to identify matted into her silver tresses. Hardly a romantic situation. Yet, seeing her lying there, so innocent, so vulnerable, a part of me couldn't help but smile. I'd kissed her. Granted it was…somewhat one sided. But until she woke up and verbally and physically abused me to within an inch of my life I could entertain the small hope that she had actually reciprocated it.

That was, if she ever did gain consciousness. I sat next to her on the bed, a wet patch slowly spreading out from beneath her motionless form. Yuna's breathing was steady, if shallow in contrast to my own. Then again, she hadn't just carried someone with a swordfighter's physique and saturated with a few gallons of pond water half a mile.

How could she not think she was beautiful? The dirty water she was soaked in did nothing to detract from the fact that in my eyes she was simply gorgeous. If anything, it only served to enhance her earthy beauty. The tunic she was wearing clung to every enticing curve of her body, her wet skin glistening in the pale moonlight. Despite her total disregard for modesty, I knew that if she were awake she'd murder me for looking. Conscious, she was tough, battle hardened and anything but a Lady. But now, she looked delicate, frail, her closed eyelids with their sweeping dark lashes hiding the splendour of her piercing green eyes. With one gaze she could praise or silence, torture or caress. They betrayed her otherwise entirely controlled exterior. They gave a glimpse into who she was, her thoughts, her heart.

Underneath the bravado, she was utterly self conscious, yet I couldn't begin to understand why. Yuna was more than attractive. Maybe not in the same way as the Evenstar or Tengaar who had an effortless splendour, but even incapacitated her undeniable inner beauty shone out. Besides, the great and celebrated beauties were completely and utterly faultless, porcelain, delicate, perfection in the eyes of most men. But even now she was anything but that. Dark, earthen, rich, curvy, exotic, beautiful, that was her. She was so different from anything else I'd encountered, brazenly defying any norms and living by whichever laws suited her. And yet, there was a sort of timidity in her boldness.

She was so afraid to let anyone close. So afraid that in the end they'd hurt her. How could I make her open up? Lay her defences down and let me in. I'd give anything to see the person she was when she thought no one was looking, when she was free to let herself go. The person that lingered just behind her few genuine smiles. But then, who was I to ask her to do that? I couldn't promise her that something wouldn't happen to me. Despite immortality, life was a mysterious and I was just as clueless as anyone else to what might happen from one day to the next. I could die tomorrow, and then what? I'd have left her like everyone else she'd ever been close to.

Carefully, I removed the strands of hair plastered to her forehead and she stirred.

"Legolas?" She croaked, her voice quiet and - to my surprise - frail. She didn't open her eyes.

"I'm here, Yuna." I said, my voice low, stroking her cheek lightly. She could spit roast me in the morning, right now, she was mine.

"Legolas, why on Arda am I soaked to the bone?" And just like that, all traces of fragility disappeared and she was her sarcastic self once more.

"Don't you remember? You…fell into the lake beneath the water fall. I barely managed to pull you out before you drowned." Eru, what if I hadn't? What if she had drowned? What would I have done then? My heart sunk heavily in my chest just thinking about it.

"That's absurd." She mumbled, removing my hand from her cheek. Reluctantly, I let it drop to the bed. "Your minuscule, Elvish brain is playing tricks on you, Mirkwood, because I certainly don't remember traipsing to any foul smelling lake." Yunalesca sniffed almost primly, her eyes opening just barely. "Eck, that's you!" She sat bolt upright. Her shoulders immediately slumped and she brought a hand to her forehead. "Ugh, we…didn't get sloshed again, did we?"

"Not to my knowledge." I sighed, sitting up beside her.

"If this is your idea of a joke, Princey, then I can assure you I will have your pretty, blond hide skinned, stretched and fashioned into a coat before morning's first light." The threat sounded strained.

"Yuna…something happened to you…"

"Well I can bloody well see that."

"No, I mean…your eyes, they turned black…or…well, not so much black as seeming to not exist at all. It was as if there were simply two very deep, dark holes where they should have been. You acted crazed…more so than usual…as if you were someone else entirely and then…then you just took off. When I finally caught up to you on the bank of the lake you collapsed and fell into it."

"So what you're basically saying is you got a bucket stagnant pond water, managed to cover me in it without waking me and dragged me into your room. And, just to add a touch of authenticity, you doused yourself in the stuff. If I didn't feel like I'd just been tossed about like a Mûmakil's plaything I'd show you just what I think of your little _joke_ and then you'd be wishing for the butter knife, a rusty one at that." Even I could tell her heart wasn't entirely into her own account of the night's events, but she was probably just floundering for an explanation.

"Yuna, I'm not joking."

"Then how come I don't even recall waking up till now?"

"I…I don't know…" Then she didn't remember the kiss. Part of me knew this was probably for the best, the less rational part, however, was beyond disappointed.

"Why so glum, Mirkwood? Annoyed that your silky locks now resemble something a Warg coughed up?"

"It's nothing."

"You might as well tell me," She sighed. "Everyone else seems to."

"It's just…you don't seem to realise what I'm telling you."

"I do."

"Then why are you so unfazed?" I got to my feet, standing in front of her. "For Eru's sake Yuna, you were screaming, I've never even heard you scream in anything but anger before. Your room looks like a troop of Orcs have been through it and you're telling me you don't remember a thing?"

"In a word: yes."

"Doesn't that scare you at all? Because it petrified me. I…almost lost you." The words slipped out unbidden but I didn't care. "What if it happens again?"

"Of course I'm afraid, Legolas. But, seeing as I don't really remember anything, there's not much I can do about it, is there? So what's the point in worrying?" How could she be so impeccably calm?

"I suppose." I mumbled after a while.

"In that case," She bounced up from the edge of the bed. "I think I'm going to go back to my room and see if my headache will allow me to get anymore sleep."

"You don't want to do that." I said, blocking her path.

"And why's that?" Yuna seemed on the verge of giving me a Look™.

"As I said before, it's in a state. You can stay here the night."

"With _you_?" Oh yes, the Look™ was definitely not far off.

"I don't feel much like sleeping." I stated plainly. The truth was I couldn't lie so tantalizingly close to her without wanting to touch her, wrap my arms around her, caress every inch of her soft skin. Every scar, every flaw that made her flawless. I couldn't trust myself not to.

"You mind if I borrow a tunic, then? _Before_ I die of pneumonia." I hadn't thought of the cold, despite being in the same state, I simply didn't feel it. Her, on the other hand…it took every ounce of willpower I had not to lower my gaze. That soaked tunic _was_ very form fitting.

"Ah, yeah." I scratched the back of my neck before retrieving a loose fitting green one from a plain set of drawers. It would likely fit as well as the one she was wearing.

"You not planning on getting into something a little _less_ wet?"

"Huh, oh…yes, right." I mumbled, feeling a fool. I went to the drawers again, this time retrieving a set of breeches.

"Legolas."

"Yes?"

"Once again, are you planning on watching?" I hadn't realised that I was just standing there, breeches in one hand.

"What…oh, erm, no?"

"Than it might be an idea to turn around."

"Yes, right." I mumbled, doing so. Why did I seem such an invalid all of a sudden? The fact that, due to the moonlight, Yuna's tunic was almost completely see-through might have been a cause. But there had to be something else, didn't there? I shook my head before replacing my wet breeches with the dry pair. Behind me, there was slop, undoubtedly the sound of her soaked tunic hitting the floor. A curious part of me whispered to turn round but, the part of me with enough sense to know that if I did, Yuna would open me up and use my ribs for a xylophone, stopped me from doing so.

"I think my hair soaked up the whole sodding lake." She sated accompanied by a squelch and the drip of water droplets falling from said hair. I turned round. She wouldn't be wringing her hair out naked…right? To my immense disappointment mingled with a more rational relief she wasn't. "Fucking typical, finally get my hair looking like I haven't been dragged through a haystack backwards and I just _happen_ to fall into a valar-damned oversized _pond_." She finished, looking at me. "What is it? Do I have some fat patch of mud on me or something?"

"What? No, what makes you say that?"

"You're just staring so hard it's like your eyes are about to pop out."

"Oh, sorry." My gaze drifted to the floor for a brief moment. "Uh, is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm sure I'll be fine." She stated, slipping under the covers.

"If you need me, I'll be close by, alright?"

"Don't see why I would, but okay." Sighing, I turned towards the door, opening it outwards. "Legolas…" She said softly. I turned and my breath nearly caught. Her hair shone in the moonlight, the pale light emphasising her high cheekbones and glittering in her emerald eyes. Curled up under the covers she almost looked, for lack of a better word, cute.

"Yes." I finally responded, after remembering how to talk.

"Don't g--" She stopped, clearing her throat. "Don't leave Olwё in here." She carried on, louder, more authoritarian this time. "You know how that _thing_ scares the shit out of me." I simply nodded, walked to cage, picked it up and exited into the hallway without another word. The door clicked shut and, without thinking I walked to Yuna's room. There was no other place I could put him and besides, it was doubtful she'd find out. The fluff ball thrashed violently in its confines as I entered, placing the cage on the floor. The room was eerily quiet, strewn glass and pottery littering the floor, the covers a tangled mess on the bed, the curtains billowing in the breeze from the balcony. A bull in a china shop was nothing compared to this. Not knowing what else to do, I sat on the bed, resting my head in my hands.

I'd kissed her and she didn't even remember. To her, it was as if nothing had happened. I supposed I should have been happy. At least this way she wouldn't threaten me with hot coals or that damned butter knife, but I wasn't. Yuna had me so mystified I could barely tell up from down and she doubtfully had a clue. She might kill me if she remembered but at least than she would have known how I felt about her. I wouldn't be stuck in limbo.

But then what? It was too much to hope that she returned my feelings. She just thought we were friends. Would our relationship become awkward? I could already picture uncomfortable meetings in the halls, Yuna attempting to get away before she was seen and myself with no clue of how to approach her. What if she left? She had already said she was going to leave and telling her might only give her further incentive. If Yuna left like that, she might never come back and then I would have lost her altogether.

But I didn't think I could handle our relationship remaining purely platonic. I might eventually get over her but, the truth was, I didn't want to. All those years lived without her paled in comparison to the few, short months I'd spent with her. She didn't see me as every one else, the prince, the heir to a throne. She saw me for who I was and treated me as such. She gave me no respect or trust that I hadn't earned, and for that I respected her more than almost anyone I could think of. I desperately wanted to see the real Yuna, but would she ever let me? She hadn't let down those defences for anyone else so what made me think I was so special? Somehow, I had to show her that she could trust me, that I wouldn't hurt her. She had told me she trusted me with her life, now I needed her to trust me with her heart. But before I asked that I had to take a leap of faith.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

It was a while since Legolas had left. The room was cold, the air and the sheets. I felt numb inside, yet my lips seemed to burn. Absentmindedly I skimmed a finger over them, expecting the skin to be as hot as it felt. He'd kissed me, and, after getting over a preliminary moment of shock, I'd kissed him back. I was torn between complete and utter outrage and…well this feeling that other people felt. If I'd had to name it, I'd say it was giddiness. But I knew that couldn't be it. Giddiness was an emotion suffered by obsessed, maniacal, hormonal girls. I was _not_ giddy. That would be stupid, against everything I believed in, and completely not something I would ever even think about feeling. Oh, Eru, I was giddy.

I was surprised he hadn't heard my heart, the whole time he was in the room it had been pounding against my chest, a rhythm that thumped in my ears. The best thing I could hope for was that he'd taken it to be shivers from the chill. But what if he hadn't? What if he knew that his little stunt had had such an immense effect on me? That's all it was, a joke, a bit of fun. He'd given that much away when he'd stood there, just staring at the hideous creature dragged up from the depths of the lake. He hadn't looked much better, but still. That's why he hadn't stayed. He couldn't bear to be around someone so repulsive. Why hadn't the ground conveniently opened up and swallowed me at that precise moment? At least then I wouldn't have to face him in the morning. Fuckwit.

I hated myself for noticing that the sheets smelt like him. I loathed myself for wanting to bury my face in the pillow and take in his scent. I despised myself for knowing that I was smitten when girlish crushes most definitely not what I was about. But I detested him for playing such a cruel joke. Especially when I'd been utterly exposed. Not just physically but emotionally. Robbing him of the pleasure of seeing me shaken, however, wasn't the only reason I'd shamelessly lied.

The dreams. They'd started off as before. People fleeing a city, chaos, flames, death and that overwhelming sense of pure and absolute evil. That alone sent shivers down my spine but then they'd twisted and become worse. I'd seen countless horrors in my time. The remnants of Orc cook pots, a mere child being torn apart limb by fragile limb as a ravenous Warg ate them alive, their shrill screams echoing through Eymn Muil. I'd taken the beast down but far too late to do anything for the infant. By then I couldn't even discern whether they'd been a boy or a girl. I'd seen more than any one person should have to. But all that was nothing compared to what I'd witnessed in the dreams.

Where once they had been a tangled mass of images, smells and sensations, they had then become so terrifyingly clear. The smell of burning and decaying flesh had filled my nostrils till I felt like retching and no doubt had. Shrieks of utter fear had filled the city but they were nothing compared to the blood thirsty cries that accompanied them. Even now, my hands trembled at their recollection. I clasped them together, attempting to steady my racing pulse.

It was only when I'd seen the inhabitants of the city that I'd been frightened to the core. Those that remained alive of course. The streets had been bathed crimson and littered with bodies, most missing limbs or huge chunks of skin, nail and teeth marks peppering the skin alongside the fatal wounds. They ran half naked and covered in blood, hunter and hunted alike. Those being preyed upon fled for their lives yet none escaped. A part of me knew that they couldn't, that the city was sealed off somehow. Sons murdered mothers, sisters slaughtered brothers until the quarry was spent and then, they had simply turned on each other. Tears sprung up in my eyes. They had been elves. White haired, dark skinned and light eyed. They were like none I'd ever seen before save my mother and…myself. Those that had begun the slaughter had been crazed, dark pools of nothingness inhabiting the space where there eyes should have been. Exactly how Legolas had described my appearance not three hours before.

I rubbed the tears from my eyes but new ones immediately welled up. I had woken up screaming, terror turning to sorrow, sorrow to anger. Before I knew it there was debris everywhere and then…then I just lost control of my body. I could see what was happening but was powerless to stop it. When I finally regained charge I was standing at the lakes edge, Legolas in front of me. I'd felt so faint that I simply collapsed, resigning myself to a watery grave. Than he'd rescued me and deemed that moment the time to play the cruellest trick of all.

"Stupid, poncey, twattish _elf._" I growled croakily. My eyes stung, hot, salty tears rolling unhindered down my cheeks. I knew I couldn't stop them. "What the hell's happening to me?" I whispered to the dark. Was that what I was destined become? A blood thirsty monster? A sob racked my body as I contemplated the prospect. If I stayed here, I'd end up slaughtering everyone I'd grown to care about. When I closed my eyes, I saw their half mangled faces, Jen, Firowen, Narin, their features marred by bloody gashes. Their blank eyed stares filled with a mix of accusation and pity.

I had to leave, before this happened again and I harmed more than just a pair of badly trained border guards. If I told the arrogant, _infuriating_, blond he might try to stop me. Convince me that I needed his help, which I didn't. I'd just bring him pain. I had to leave. Pathetically, the worst thing was that I knew I'd miss him, more than I would ever care to admit.

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The sun's first rays were just peaking over the horizon as I left Legolas' room, easing the door closed behind me so that it didn't make a sound. I hadn't slept a wink but, then again, I didn't want to.

"Yuna?" Startled half out of my wits, I proceeded to do three things in succession. The first was to jump like a skittish hare, making my guilt plain to see. The second was to bite down hard on my tongue. I would have liked to think it was to stop myself from letting out any number of curses but, unfortunately that was hardly the case. Of course, the third and last was to swivel round, smile like a maniac and pretend nothing had happened. Stupid elf.

"Hi Legolassss!" What the hell did I see in him…you know, apart from stunning good looks, charm, heroism…well, that was beside the point. Bloody blond. "How long have you been out here?"

"Um…a while…most of the night, actually."

"Oh…" I said, deadpan. Had he heard me? The whole reason I'd feigned exhaustion was so he'd leave. I couldn't let him know. He _couldn't_ know. But, Eru, I'd only stopped an hour ago. I could still feel the tracks they'd left on my cheeks. He'd heard. He'd heard everything. Nosey little candy-ass _elf_! _'Wow, he has a great chest.'_ I had to formulate an excuse.

"Yuna…" He said getting to his feet. "There's, um, something I need to tell you."

"Me too."

"Well, ladies first." There was a moment of silence.

"Yes, go on."

"It's just um, I've been doing some thinking and…"

"I know that's not your strong point, Mirkwood, but come on, spit it out."

"Yuna, we've known each other for a while now, right?"

"…yes, I suppose."

"So…erm, I feel like we should be able to tell each other things."

"Such as…?"

"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I…I need to know…" Oh by the Valor, he was going to ask if I'd been crying. Or worse, that I should stay. Wanker. Retarded gimp. Caring, chivalrous, beautiful. No! Damn it! Damn it! My mind raced. I had to think of _something_! "Yuna, I--" His words were reduced to a series of muffled sounds as I pressed my lips against his. It was the only thing I could think of. He could have his laugh at my expense later; I would be long gone by then. Wait, was he…kissing _back_? Well, this was rather…_oh my._ I only now realised that he'd put his arms round me, one hand firmly pressed against the small of my back, the other between my shoulder blades.

My hands slipped from either side of his face to his shoulders as I relaxed into the kiss. Despite not having that much comparison, it wasn't the hardest thing to tell he was rather proficient in the art. Firm but soft. Strong but delicate. With just the barest hint of tongue. Oh Eru, my heart _fluttered_. No awkward teeth. No trying to clean my tonsils. No randomly sucking my lip. Simply…perfect. Just like him, but nothing like me. I panicked.

Pulling away, I tried to catch my breath.

"Uh, yes well, I was just, er, seeing what all the fuss about." I mumbled, backing away slightly. He looked worried. Better leave while I could. "Now that I've, um, done that, I'm going to go."

"Yuna." He caught my wrist as I turned to leave. "We may as well do it properly."

"That _wasn't_ pr--" I squeaked. "Ahem, that wasn't proper?" Definite improvement, though I still sounded as if I'd just inhaled helium. Legolas shook his head pulling me towards him. To my complete surprise, I let him.

Butterflies swelled in my stomach. He had me behaving like some barely of age girl swooning –_swooning_!- over a blond haired, blue eyed, shit for brains, _elf_! He probably didn't have a clue. Even if he did, he'd probably only get his jollies off on it. I realised I was staring into his eyes like said swooning girl and quickly lowered my gaze to the floor. Gently, he released my wrist, cupping my cheek in his hand and softly caressing the flushed skin with a thumb. I quivered –_quivered!- _at his touch, biting my lower lip to silence a gasp. My heart beat was erratic. This close I could smell him. His scent had terrorised me all night but now it was overwhelming. His dexterous fingers ardently stroked my ear, lips, neck. Closing my eyes, I uselessly attempted to calm myself.

Sliding his hand down my jaw, he tilted my chin back with a single finger. His clear blue eyes met my mine. It was at this particular moment that I realised what a state I must be in. My hair positively bristled and I still whiffed of scummy water from the lake. He, on the other hand, was immaculate.

"Legolas, don't." I murmured as his lips skimmed my own. Even to my ears the whisper sounded aroused. He just smiled. The cheeky, fuckwitting, git just bloody...

Thoughts of any kind were entirely washed away as his lips tenderly met mine for the second time. His hot breath mingled with mine and I could taste him, better than any delicacy, more addictive than any drug. Oh Eru, I was utterly, _utterly_ doomed. Tingles swept through my body as he brushed his tongue over my lower lip. If the previous kiss had been perfect, this was…well, _wow_. Words such as 'incredible' or 'mind-blowing' briefly skipped through my head, but none seem to cut it. I had never been one to expect much, if _anything_ of romance. I had always scoffed at the stories of maidens being overwhelmed by their lover's presence, and laughed at the idea that a simple mashing together of lips could reduce anyone to the sort of state I was in now. But it was happening.

I surrendered. It was the kind of kiss you saw in the grand plays, with fireworks and the backing of an overenthusiastic orchestra. The kind that left you torn between throwing up or leaving the theatre. Had I been watching, I would have gagged. I'd never been on the receiving end of a truly epic kiss. I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. But, now it seemed so fabulously clear. So who was I to not enjoy it?

Hesitantly, I brought my arms up. But Legolas was one step ahead of me. He slipped my arms round his neck, sliding his down till they circled my waist then pulled me closer. My eyes half opened as I felt the warmth from his bare chest seep through the thin tunic I was wearing. Our tongues met for a brief moment and the butterflies flittered away. I was kissing Legolas and Firowen was coming down hall. Wait. Firowen. Shit.

Faster than lightning, I was a foot away from Legolas and all too painfully aware I was in a tunic that barely covered my backside.

"What's the matter?" Legolas asked concern plastered on his face. "Oh."

"My, my, my, what _do_ we have here?" Firowen chirped, smiling wide enough to split his face in two. "Tut, tut, children. You should know better than to make out in the corridor where _everyone_ can see."

"We were _not making out._" I growled. Firowen raised an eyebrow, the smile not budging an in inch. In fact, it seemed to get wider.

"_Really_? You see, I beg to differ."

"I swear, you depraved little shite, if you tell a soul what you saw I will hunt you down, hack off the top of your skull with a six-foot axe and use it as a cup!"

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"Ican'tbelieveyoukissed!" Jen squealed an inch from my ear. Yes, Firowen was most definitely dead meat.

"What was it like?" Narin asked wide eyed. The two had ambushed me in the midst of my packing, sitting either side of me to make it blatantly clear there was no chance for an escape. The repugnant blond must have scampered off as soon as possible for Narin and Jen to get here as quickly as they had.

Gem had obviously been busy. By the time I'd got back to my room that morning, any trace of the previous night's activity had been cleared away. The only thing to suggest something might have happened was the absence of the large mirror over the dresser and a couple vases. "Wait, don't answer that, I don't really want to know because…well, he's my brother."

"I do!" Jen screeched. "Tell me _everything_!" After wiggling a pinky in my ear, I sighed.

"There's not much to tell. I just heard some women saying that he was a good kisser so I thought I'd see for myself." _'Oh yeah, Yuna, that was _real_ convincing.'_

"Uh huh." Jen was having none of it. "Well, how was it?"

"How was what?"

"Your breakfast. The kiss, duh." Jen gave Narin a very good imitation of the Look™. "Okay, so maybe I do want to know."

"It was…" _'Heaven.'_ "Nice."

"Nice? _Nice?_ Yuna, _nice_ is the kind of word you use to describe a woman who looks like an Oliphant in her wedding dress. I know for a fact that it had to be better than _nice._" Narin gave Jen a shocked look. "What? I've never actually kissed him or anything, but I ease drop on just as much gossip as you do and at least one of those shameless hussies had to be telling the truth." Narin nodded reluctantly.

"Fine, it was more than nice." I stated. "In fact it was, really, really good."

"Awww!" The repulsive sound emanated from Narin's throat. "You like him."

"What? No, I don't." This was hideous. Suddenly, we were all 14-year-old human girls squealing over our first crushes. Only I'd never had much of a childhood, or an adolescence of much interest. I had grown up very fast, but the way things were going I may as well had never grown up at all, it certainly seemed like Narin and Jen hadn't.

"You _do_!" Jen's eyes widened.

"Look, I told you before, we're just friends."

"Yes, just like me and Firowen are _just friends_." Narin interjected.

"Yes, exactly, what? No!"

"It's so _cute_!" Jen's voice was reaching a pitch only dogs could hear.

"Nothing is _cute_. There is nothing that could even be considered '_cute'_ in any sense of the word because there is _nothing_ going on!" I still couldn't believe I, who had fought my way through legions and lived for over three millennia, was justifying myself to a pair of over-hormonal Wood Elves.

"Oh come on Yuna, it's so _obvious_!" Narin teased. If this was what came of imparting advice, the next time someone asked I was going to keep my mouth firmly shut.

"I can't believe this! Everybody's getting together! Narin's with Firowen, I'm getting married! Wow, I don't think I've ever been this happy!" Narin laughed at Jen.

"Me and Legolas are _not_ getting together!" I pleaded, not that they were listening. The two had leapt off the bed and were dancing about, giggling as they twirled. I sighed, letting my head drop to the bed. Fuckwitting Prince.

"Yuna?" Jen asked once they'd stopped, her voice low. "What's this?" She gestured to the items laid out at the end of the bed. I'd been hoping they wouldn't notice.

"You're not leaving? Are you?" Narin's tone was tinged with worry.

"Well, yes…I really should be getting back to Fangorn." I didn't see much point in denying the obvious. There might still be a chance they wouldn't tell Legolas, right?

"But…why? There's no _real_ reason for you to go, the Ents survived without you for millennia, why wouldn't they still be fine. Besides, we'll miss you too much."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll really miss an irate, misanthropic bitch."

"I'm sure Legolas will." Jen teased to Narin's obvious amusement.

"Seriously, Yuna. The palace, Eryn Lasgalen, it's going be so boring without you. Since you've been here you've changed…well, everything. If you go, who will we dress up? Or who'll show those chauvinistic pigs that women can be drop dead gorgeous and still defeat them several times over in a fight?" _'Drop dead gorgeous?_ _Had she suffered a major concussion or something?'_ "Who're we going to go to when we need advice?"

"Who's going to beat the crap out of Firowen?"

"Jen!"

"Sorry."

"I'll be back." I lied.

"You promise?" Jen asked, sceptical.

"I promise."

"Good."

"So, when are you planning on going than?" Narin sat down again.

"Not sure, a day or two."

"That soon?" Jen seemed shocked.

"I've already put off going longer than I should have." I stated the simple truth. "It's time I left."

"But…but…"

"But…you…you can't leave till, er…" even I could tell she was fishing for excuses, "…we've…had a going away party"

"_Huh?_"

"Yes, a going away party." Jen sounded more confident this time.

"That's a great idea!" Narin beamed.

"Idea? This isn't a way of delaying me, _is it_?"

"What! No, Narin's just being silly. _Idea?_" She scoffed. "No, we _always_ have leaving parties, big tradition, countless years. Right, Narin?"

"Uh huh!" She nodded enthusiastically.

"So, you see, you can't go till we have one."

"Yep!"

"And when is this…_leaving party_."

"When? Uh…"

"Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow."

"Where?"

"Where…?"

"It's, um…" Narin trailed off.

"Well, now, that's a secret. Yes, see it's a surprise, secret leaving party…"

"But I already know about it."

"Yes, you do."

"Than how can it be a surprise?"

"Don't blame us." Narin started defensively. "It's not like we made up the name."

"Exactly, so we'll pick you up tomorrow evening and take you to the surprise, secret leaving party."

----------------------------------------------Interlude--------------------------------------------

"_Surprise… secret…leaving_ party?"

"I know it's awful but I was floundering." Jen rolled her eyes. "At least this way she won't leave for two days."

"And she actually believed you?" I asked in disbelief.

"I think so." Narin replied sheepishly. A group of consisting of Jen, Narin, Firowen, Cer and myself were lounging around the balcony leading off from my room.

"I can't believe she's going." Jen stated gloomily.

"You see, that's what I don't understand, why is Yuna leaving?"

"What do you mean, Firowen?" Jen asked, puzzled.

"I can't be the only one to have noticed her unmistakable attraction to our crown prince here." He gestured to me with his head; his body leant on the waist high banister.

"Firowen, it was just a kiss." I stated.

"Yeah, and Mount Doom is just a sauna. Come on Legolas, she was wearing your tunic."

"What!" Narin and Jen screeched in unison.

"H…how do you know that."

"Well, firstly it was green. And secondly it had a stain on the sleeve which you got a couple of weeks ago."

"You realise the fact you know that much about my wardrobe is scary."

"Yeah, not really, I put the stain on there. Had something on my fingers, you were near to hand…you know." He shrugged.

"Thanks."

"So she stayed the night!" Jen asked still in a state of alarm.

"Yes and no."

"Which one is it?" Somewhat surprisingly Cer joined the inquisition.

"Yes, she spent the night in my room but no, I didn't." I sighed. "Look, I don't really want to talk about it any more. The fact is Yuna and I, we're…just friends."

"That's what she said." Narin stated.

"Oh." I said, somewhat crestfallen.

"You really _do_ like her!" Jen clapped in delight. "I knew it!"

"No." I retorted pathetically, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Aww! He does!" Firowen came over and pinched my cheek. "My little Leggypoo's all grown up." He said in the manner of an obese aunt harassing their nephew. He was older than me, and yet he was acting as if he were several generations younger. Glaring, I slapped his hand away. He pouted slightly but it soon melted into a fat grin.

"Come on, Legolas, just tell us." Narin implored. "Or at least me, I'm family."

"Narin!" Jen and Firowen chorused.

"Hey, I'm allowed to try, aren't I?"

"I…might…" I had to clap my hands over my ears as the girls and…Firowen screeched. Cer threw me a sympathetic look. "But…"

"But what?" Narin inquired.

"You know Yuna. She's so closed off about these things. I just want to talk to her first before you start getting excited."

"That can be arranged." Jen mumbled quietly.

"What?"

"Oh…nothing, um, I just forgot there was something me and Narin had to do."

"There was?"

"Yes, Narin, there was. Now come along."

"Uh, okay." She said, Jen already leading her by the wrist away from the balcony.

"What about the secre…the leaving party?" I called after them.

"Don't worry. We'll take care of everything." Jen waved a dainty hand before slamming the door to the corridor.

"Those two are up to something." Firowen, ever the astounding detective stated the glaringly obvious.

"Jen can be overenthusiastic at times." Cer said, shrugging.

"At least you're the one marrying her."

"I know." He said, a faint smile on his lips as he nodded wistfully.

"You do realise that Yuna is going to murder you for telling Narin and Jen?" I asked Firowen.

"Oh, you know she always says that. If she'd have actually come through on her threats than I'd have been dead a _long_ time ago."

"Somehow, I think this time's different. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised to find your mangled corpse hanging from a window tomorrow morning." Firowen chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess since I value my manhood I'd better steer clear of her 'til tomorrow night, eh. You know I really couldn't help telling, right?"

"I know."

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It was late evening. The sun had set a few hours beforehand, the air had grown cold and I was on the practise grounds sparing with a particular sibling of mine.

"So, Yuna's leaving." Aldaríon stated, parrying a blow with his wooden practise sword. "Why?"

"She's been meaning to for a while." The blades clacked as they met above his head. "I guess she just realised it was time."

"That's too bad." I jumped back to avoid his stick connecting with the back of my knees, bringing my wooden sword up to parry the following swipe at my torso. "She's interesting." I couldn't help but smile as I swung for his head and he quickly ducked. Interesting was somewhat of an understatement. "Did she, uh, ever let you borrow that sword of hers?"

"Why'd you ask?" I inquired despite fully knowing the reason.

"No reason really." He mumbled, our blades crashing together. "It's just a cool sword and I was wondering how it worked, you know."

"She's never used Luccrecía here." I stated knocking him slightly on the wrist. "How'd you know about it?" I asked inquisitively.

"Um, I might have sneaked into her room to get a peak." Aldaríon admitted reluctantly. "Yuna nearly had a manic episode when she found me holding it."

"I've no doubt." I held in a chuckle as I parried first a blow to the ribs than my left shoulder. "No, I've never used it. She told me before that for some reason the sword solely responds to her. Others that have attempted to use it find it heavy and sluggish. Neither does it open for them."

"Yeah, that was really…cool." I saw the corners of his eyes crease in a smile though most of his face was still pained in concentration. "Do you think maybe it's because she's, um, different?"

"Don't open yourself up like that and keep your guard high, it gives you more power. I've no doubt it's because of her heritage. I suppose she was literally born to use it."

"Have you seen her? Use the sword, that is." I knocked the practice sword from his hands and he flipped back, retrieving it easily.

"Once, at Saruman's siege of Helm's Deep." I answered, his sword missing my right forearm by inches.

"And?" He dodged a blow, quickly kicking at my calves, his leg failing to hit as I leapt clear. "Was she good? I mean I know she's good because she matched you and all." The statement held a note of awe. "But with that sword… _Luccrecía_ She must have been invincible."

"No one is beyond defeat, but she gave an astounding impression of invincibility if ever there was one. She held off an entire legion of Uruk-hai single-handedly. Long enough for Aragorn and Gimli to escape, barely escaping herself."

"I wish I could have been there." He stated, landing a blow on my fingers, I grimaced slightly but easily recovered.

"Do not wish for battles, Aldaríon, you will find them soon enough." I knocked the wooden implement out of his fingers, twirled round once and caught it mid air. "You've improved a lot." I smiled, dropping the swords. "However your manners need some work." I stated before getting him into a headlock.

"Legolas!" He moaned, his voice muffled by the crook of my arm.

"What are you going to do if you ever feel the need to go into someone's room and rifle through their belongings for no good reason?" He gave up his struggling as I rapped my knuckles on the top of his head.

"Not." Came the stifled reply.

"Good." I said releasing him. He sulked, flattening disturbed wisps of blond hair with a palm.

"You really think I've improved?" He asked, his eyes downcast.

"Definitely." I grinned. "Someday, you might even beat me." He elbowed me in the ribs but I still caught the smile on his face.

"You know, I don't really know Yuna, but, I'm going to miss her. She's different and, you know, not in a bad way."

"I know."

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An hour or so later I found myself aimlessly walking the palace grounds. I didn't feel like sleeping or reading or doing much of anything. I just felt lost and restless. What was I going to say to her that might convince her not to leave? Was there anything? She was stubborn to a fault and once she'd made up her mind, that was that. It was a quality I both admired and hated.

Something still nagged at the back of my mind, something Firowen had said: _"Why is she leaving?"_ I ignored the reason he'd given, I wasn't so self involved to think that my presence alone would keep her here. However, something had definitely given her the push to leave and my mind wondered whether it had something to do with last night. But she said she didn't remember, so that couldn't be it. Then why hadn't she told me she was going to leave? I'd offered to escort her back to Fangorn and she'd accepted. Than why hadn't she told me unless she didn't want me to know? Anyone for that matter. What was she worried of?

Yuna was a mystery. Every time I'd thought I'd gained an insight she found some way once again leaving me totally bewildered. I wished more than anything she could confide in me. I had attempted to do just that this morning but she'd silenced me with a kiss. Deep, intense, sensual, more so because I had no doubt it was being returned. How could she think of leaving after that? Without a word, even a goodbye. Didn't she know that I wouldn't be able to handle it? That I'd follow her. I needed her. I wanted her to need me.

I could feel it in her kiss. A sense of longing, desire. Surely it couldn't all be in my head? Than why was she leaving so abruptly? Something had to be wrong.

I walked parallel to the palace walls, balconies hanging high above. Something glinted in the moonlight, catching my eye. I walked over to a patch of grass, bending down. Hidden in a dense knoll was a cylindrical, silver object. I picked it up, rubbing dirt from its length.

It was my flute, the one I'd leant to Nólad. Surely he wouldn't have been so careless as to abandon it in a random part of the palace grounds. So what was it doing here? I looked up the length of the palace wall. Some two stories above me was a balcony, Yuna's no less. Maybe she'd borrowed it to practise. But than why would she throw it down here?

The mystery deepened.

A.N. SQEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! They kissed! Finally! I know it took 31 chapters for them to do it properly but I hope it was worth it. Besides, they did it TWICE! jumps around with smile plastered to face I had originally wanted to write this big, proper fluffy mary-sue kiss where Yuna totally wanted to do it and they were out on a balcony and stuff but after re-reading chapters I so realized that was completely not Yuna's style. You do get quite a slushy kiss but it's not AS fluffy as before. Soz if you want the other one, but it's just not fitting for this part of the story. But who knows, maybe you'll get later whistles. So anyhoo, I found this chapter relatively easy to write and I think the other one will be quite easy so we should have it posted pretty soon after this one. We pretty much know the story up until the end (wow, that seems so weird, ending Yuna properly) it's just up in my lil ol' head and hopefully we can provide some surprises and stuff along the way. Sorry for the mammoth A.N. just felt I had to rant. On to reviews.

Courtney: Hope that was romantic enough, but if not it'll get more fluffy later on! Take a cookie!

flamingamber: Soz I let it slip, hope you can forgive but at least it's (finally) getting into some proper romance. You said it was beautiful, awww! Thankies! Have a cookie!

kalika55: I know what you mean that sometimes we write Yuna really modern but if we didn't wouldn't she just be like all the other Mary-sues? If Tolkien had his way Yuna would never in a million years exist. I get the feeling that Eowen was scandalous enough for him. But yeah, I get what you're saying and I'll try to do it less if I can. Cookie!

lillyrose1: I so get what you mean bout the interludes, I was reading and I got confused too. Hopefully it's a little clearer this time. I would put names but I think that looks a little corny InterludeLegolas see what I mean? If it's still confusing by the next chapter though tell me and I'll change it. Cookie!

SauronMiniMe: Love the names ;p Charlize Theron, that's interesting. I'm definitely gonna think bout it cus I wanna do some Yuna fanart…if that makes sense. Cookie!

sweet-legolas: I know her and she's utterly stunning which is why I don't think she could be Yuna cus Yuna's like attractive but not striking, at least not to anyone but our dearest leggy cus he…about to give away too know what you mean bout the hotties! sigh I was thinking of Angelina cus she's such an obvious choice but than maybe she'd too obvious…I have no idea what I'm sayin anymore…Cookie!

Marpessa: You can take it as a parody if you want, whatever. As for Billy, have you touched him (sad, I know) nope, didn't think so therefore, you get thee hither! No cookie!

Morbid poet: yeah…hidden meanings…we…meant to do that…kate winslet is a bit too short I think but still a candidate cus she does look kinda elfy. Cookie!

Iariel: me love princess bride. And thankies for the sparkling review! But hun, boromir and Faramir couldn't be Yuna's dad cus, frankly, she's about 3000 years older than them. She is exceptionally distantly related to them but that's about it. Soz. You'll find out who the dad is later but like we said, he's long dead. Cookie!

Yavanna and SunStar: Aww! Thankie for reviewing hun! It's Yuna so if we'd have proper rushed the romance well, it wouldn't have been Yuna. Soz it took so long to get this chapter up. Review it! Cookie!

Lady Amytal: I'm gonna be getting the romance in there, you all deserve it. And as you requested here's a dark chocolate chip cookie drools fucking diets. Now I know why the word had 'DIE' in it…

Chimeras-star: Thanks loads for the offer though if Rai would have me back I really want her to colab till the end. Hope you enjoy the chappie anyhoo. Cookie!

Melanie: Awww! We're your faves! I feel so honored! Extra big Cookie!

Crow: just for you not one kiss but TWO! I hope I write romance well…Cookie!

Tarvalie (thankies for e-mailing! And so sorry it took this long!), hinia, jetonna, honeymufins (luv da name), nazgulli, Idhrenniel, Noneya (luv Iris!), lucy wills, Faith Destroyer, Kasey, Brynne (happy birthday! It's been pretty much a year so I'm not that far off…), writergurl88 (thankies for putting us in ur favs an u rock too!), RobynPepsiGoddess1 (they kiss again! TWICE!), SunXia, mandy, Allie, Michelle (I frigging hate geo, despite being okay at it) Lilena: to all of u I'm really soz it took a year for this to be update. I'm going to finish it even if I have to do it kicking and screaming and if you guys are still reading COOKIES FOR ALL!

P.S. now have this nifty lil thing that allows you to see how many hits your story gets so for all those people that read and don't' review (you know who you are) please do. Reviews are the only feedback a writer gets and if you're reading you must have an opinion even if it's negative. Thanks everyone, once again SORRY! And enjoy.

Much luv, Tali and Rai.


	32. Contradictions

Tali: Man of the month: Jesse Metcalfe for three reasons: 1. He went topless and sweaty in desperate housewives and I almost had a heart attack I was hyper ventilating so much. 2. He wore tights on Punk'd, looked way better than Ashton Kutcher in them and actually played a sucky role vaguely well and 3. He was in a 3DD vid! Good child…exceptionally hot child…drools

Rai: Thank you for that message, Tali ;). Dear devoted readers, after reading over the rest of the fic I'm just swamped by how much I love it, remembering my 13 year old self typing squeeful author's notes, conversations, entire chapters, I didn't realise how much I missed fanfiction, especially this one. Thank you all so much for sticking with us for over 3 years after this thing was started. I intend to throw my all into this fic once more, and expect shitloads of fanart soon. Thanks again. You all rock :D.

_"…Do you really think I'm made of stone?  
Baby, come on,  
That we only love the things we own?  
Baby, you're wrong,  
Certain things just happen when you make no plans,  
And love can really tear you up and it can break you down,  
Everything you think you know,_

_Baby, is wrong…"_

_Garbage – 'It's All Over But the Crying'_

Chapter 32: Contradictions

I couldn't take it. I'd had this song stuck in my head since that morning…or maybe it was last night. More precisely, the song I'd played on Legolas' flute what seemed like an age ago. Just when I'd thought it had finally ended, it came back with a vengeance, louder and more ferocious than before which was surprising because, if anything, it sounded like a lament for the dead.

Aggravated beyond belief, I went search of Nólad and that damned flute. Maybe if I played the tune it would finally leave my consciousness and I could have at least one, infinitesimal moment of peace.

A dirty black storm cloud over my head, I walked the halls, scowling at anyone unlucky enough to get in my path. Maids scattered like flocks of frightened geese fleeing from a fox on my approach, nobles practically hugging the walls till I disappeared. I didn't care. I was on a mission and, in a twisted kind of way, their reactions were entertaining.

I finally found the timid blond in the library, lounging on a chair, an open book in his lap. His eyes were intently focused on the pages. So much so that he didn't notice my arrival.

"Nólad!" I greeted thunderously. Alarmed, he dropped his book, a hand flying to his chest.

"Yuna," He said breathlessly. "You, um, startled me."

"Oh, sorry." I shook my head and the cloud lightened to a dull grey.

"What can I do for you?" He asked retrieving his book from the floor and smoothing the bent pages.

"Do you have that flute that Legolas lent to you? The one you had at the gathering?"

"Afraid not." His forehead crinkled in an apology. "I lent it to Celoril. He said something about serenading Linwëlin. He was even unperturbed by the fact he is a poor musician." He shrugged.

"Great." I mumbled. _'Probably don't want to touch it. Who knows what they could have done after he was finished _serenading_. Has anyone even done that since the second age? Elves!'_ "Do you think he's done with it?" I inquired anyway. The song was practically deafening, I could feel it throbbing against my temples.

"He borrowed it a couple of days ago so I'd say so." He nodded slightly. "Last I saw he was in the practise grounds if you'd like to ask."

"When was that?"

"An hour, maybe less." Nólad replied shortly. "Are you okay, Yuna?"

"Huh?" Just then I noticed I was massaging my pounding forehead. I swiftly dropped my hand. "Yeah, I'm fine thanks, just a bit of a headache."

"Alright." He accepted without another word. Eru, why were these people so accepting? It made it harder to lie to them because I knew I was irrevocably destroying the trust they'd placed in me. I smiled weakly.

"Thanks." I said, turning to leave.

"My pleasure." Half way out the door I stopped, finally realising something. He hadn't mentioned anything about Legolas and I. No quips, no smiles, not a word. Granted, mocking was hardly Nólad's style but I'd have thought it would have been on everyone's lips by now. Gossip in the palace travelled faster than an enraged Nazgûl. I couldn't resist asking.

"Nólad." I spun on my heel, a dazzling smile on my lips.

"Hmmm." He barely glanced up from his book.

"You didn't, by any chance, hear a rumour or anything involving Legolas and I, did you?" I ventured. He looked up, confusion plain on his face.

"No, I can't say I have." I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. "Then again, I've been in here most of the day and I'm usually the last to hear things anyway." He didn't sound particularly displeased, he was just relating a fact.

"Oh…" My hopes fell.

"Why? Is it anything I should know about?"

"What? Er, no, no, it's silly really. You'll laugh when you hear it." My tone was cheerless even to my ears.

"What was it?"

"What?"

"The rumour."

"I'm afraid I really should look for Celoril and get that flute." I panicked, hurrying through the library door. Sighing at the close call, I strode down the corridor in the direction of the training grounds.

My mood was little improved by my conversation with Nólad. The volume of the ghastly tune had dissipated somewhat during the exchange yet as soon as I left it returned in full, glorious force. Pounding at grey matter with every note. The scowl became a tight grimace, the dark storm cloud thundering above. Inhabitants of the palace all but fled as I advanced, muttering curses under my breath. I was going to turn into a rampaging monster and this fucking song was going to do it. It already had.

I stopped short of exiting onto the practise grounds. Sparing in the centre against the backdrop of the setting sun was Legolas and Aldaríon. Despite the noise throbbing in my cranium, I couldn't help but smile. He'd taken my advice. The younger prince was actually quite good for an elf of his age. He parried and deflected Legolas' blows with a trained ease. Not that they were particularly challenging. The fact Legolas was holding back greatly was blatant. He still moved with an agile, catlike grace which I admired, but, every time he made a sweep that might have connected with disastrous consequences, he pulled back at the last moment, allowing Aldaríon time to repel it.

"Admiring your special somebody?" A voice perked up behind me. I turned, quickly dragging Celoril into the shadowed corner.

"Legolas is _not_ my special somebody!" I seethed venom. A devilish smile crossed his face.

"Who said I was talking about Legolas?" Rolling my eyes in frustration, I released my grip on the shoulder of his light brown tunic.

"You're about as subtle as Firowen when he's had a few drinks in him." I stated with a growl. "I suppose he told you what happened than."

"Jen, actually, but I doubt that makes a difference." That smug smile was still firmly in place. "So why are you here? I mean other than to ogle your beloved."

"He's not my _beloved_!" I hissed vehemently, attempting to keep my voice down so that Legolas didn't notice us. He probably couldn't hear over the clack of the wooden practice swords but it was best not to tempt fate. After taking a deep, calming breath, I continued. "Actually, I was looking for you."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed. "Why?"

"I want that flute, the one you borrowed from Nólad." He quirked an eyebrow, the obnoxious smile returning.

"You mean the one _he_ borrowed from Legolas?"

"Yes, the one he borrowed from Legolas." I sighed. Denying it would just lead to further torment. He chuckled slightly but thankfully took the hint to lay off the subject.

"Sure, it's up in my room." He stated. "I'll get it for you and bring it to your room."

"Thanks." I said as he walked off. I turned back to the open air of the practice courts. The two were still intent on flowing through the elaborate dance they followed, one move leading to the next and so forth. I watched them for a while. Well, Legolas really but Aldaríon gained my attention from time to time.

I watched the former because I knew it was probably the last time I'd see him fight. He was skilled, effortlessly so. Grace with a deadly edge. A stupid thought hit me. If he was the last thing I saw before my death, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I let out a mirthless chuckle. I loved fighting with him. We were perfectly matched, that had already been proved. But it was exhilarating nonetheless. He pushed me to my limits and made me beg for more.

Aldaríon reared into my vision and I grinned. A perfect copy of his brother. He'd be heartbreaker, just like Legolas. Maybe Legolas didn't realize he was one but, kissing me when I knew I had to leave, making me want him, need him, it was breaking my heart. I sighed, disgusted with myself as tears stated to brim in my eyes. I wiped them away, turning the way I'd come and heading towards my room.

The flute was on my bed when I entered. Celoril had obviously been and gone. The song still relentlessly rumbled in my head, a pain throbbing behind my eyes. This couldn't be normal. Swiping the thin, cylindrical tube form the bed, I stepped out onto the balcony. The night air swept up the curtains, making them seem like spectres in the dark night. It caressed my cheeks, a horrible reminder of Legolas' feather like touch.

With a shaky sigh, I leant against the banister. His touch would haunt me till the day I died and I drew small comfort in knowing that day wasn't too far off. Taking a deep breath, I stuck the flute between my lips. Wobbly fingers played out the notes that had been lodged in my brain for the entirety of that day. They drifted out, away, into the night.

I supposed, in a way I was lucky. Countless beings had no control of their deaths. They waited, unaware and scared until, one day they met their demise. I knew exactly when it would happen, where, how. I would control my death. I wouldn't end up a monster, leaving a trail of near-enough innocent corpses in my wake till I was finally killed for their own safety. All pride and reputation stripped away by savagery. It wouldn't end like that. I wouldn't let it. I would keep my honour

I was halfway through it. A tune that whispered of phantoms, loved ones lost, lives taken, the unforgiving murdered. I had realized somewhere in the day where I'd learned it. My mother. She used to sing it. Staring to the horizon with grief ridden eyes. Waiting for her lost love. Wasting away because he would never return. I no longer had to be frightened of wasting away. The option no longer existed. I would die never knowing true love. True companionship. Just alone. So this was what the Valar had destined for this hopeless half-elf all along. Perhaps if I'd known from the start, I'd have lived a more vivacious life.

The final note rung out into the empty space beyond the balcony. The song was gone.

A sudden pain seized my head in a vice-like grip. The hand holding the flute scrambled for support and came down hard on the stone of the balcony. I dimly registered the flute falling off the edge, but in my current state this was of very little importance. I crumpled to the floor, digging my fingers into my scalp. Black and white spots danced across my vision as searing, white hot pain stabbed at me. I struggled to breathe, my finger nails digging into my scalp till they drew blood. Eru, what was happening to me?

I bit down hard on my lip to silence a scream that threatened to burst out of my mouth. My flesh crawled, the pain spreading downwards. Scorching, it prickled down my throat, taking the scream with it. Tears streamed a dreadful torrent down my cheeks as the pain sweltered in my chest. I fell forward, barely catching myself before I collided with the floor. Fingernails dug into the soft flesh of my palms as I willed myself not to cry out. Every muscle in my body was quivering; the pain spreading like a disease till it encased my entire body in its tortuous grip.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I struggled for air. This was it. I was going to die on a damn balcony. Not in honourable combat. Not pining away for my lost love. Just scared and alone. In horrible, gut wrenching agony. Without ever getting to say goodbye.

With those hopeless morbid thoughts swimming in my head, the pain became too much and slowly, everything turned faded to black.

----------------------------------------Interlude (not Legolas)------------------------------------

Slim fingers encircled the fallen piccolo, nestled atop the soil beneath a rosebush. The rescuer's reddish brown eyes scanned the length of it before his head tilted up to see the balcony above. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was no hint of humour. With a flick of his wrist the flute was on the ground once more, and he continued down the path, jet black hair the only indication of his identity.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

Slicked head to toe in cold, stale sweat, I awoke the next morning. Anor was a sliver on the horizon. Birds chirped away cheerily in the trees, mocking the utter hell I'd been through. I laughed bitterly. No death. Just torture beyond words. My vision was blurry, tears staining my cheeks for the second night in a row. I lay there for a while. Watching the sun as it slowly climbed the horizon, knowing I might not get a second chance.

After a long while, I picked myself off the chilly floor and half stumbled half crawled into the bathroom. My muscles screamed in protest as pulled myself level with the water filled pewter basin. Water sloped out onto the floor as I dunked my head in. It was an icy slap in the face that brought me fully conscious. Gasping, I brought my head out. My reflection was a mess. Dried blood caked half my hair into awkward clumps, running down to my forehead. The rest had turned the clear water in the basin a brilliant crimson. Bloodshot eyes stared back at me. My legs gave way and I plummeted to the floor, my whole body shivering.

"Milady Yuna?" I groaned softly, it was Gem. I didn't want anyone to find me in this sate. Maybe she wouldn't come into the bathroom. "Milady Yuna!" Then again… "What happened?" Her eyes were wide with concern as she quickly knelt down beside me.

"I fell." Not entirely a lie but hardly the truth.

"I'll go get someone." She made to leave.

"Wait." I said, placing an unsteady hand on her small thigh to stay her. "Please don't tell anyone, Gem." I pleaded more desperately than I had at any other point in my life. "I'll be fine. Just please, don't say anything." She looked at me with pained eyes, the Halfling torn between her conscious and my request.

"Alright." She reluctantly consented. "But I'm taking a look at you and then you're taking a bath." I gave the barest hint of a nod. With Gem's aid, I peeled myself off the bathroom floor and tumbled onto my bed. The petite Hobbit was actually quite strong and when I remarked on the fact she mumbled that you bloody well had to be when you were dragging a ton of linens up five flights of stairs. I chuckled hoarsely. "I tell you, those dresses that look all flitty and light on those twigs weigh more than I do." She shook her head. "I need to go fetch some clean water and order a bath. Are you going to be alright by yourself, milady?" I nodded and, after she roughly fixed the covers over my prone form, left.

It took Gem awhile to return and during her absence I worked my muscles into some form of working order. The Halfling bustled through the door, her arms brimming with towels, a pitcher of hot water and any number of servants in her wake. Each dragged steaming pails with them, entering the bathroom to poor them into the large tub. They barely glanced at me huddled under a heap of blankets. Odd, seeing as rumours should be flying about the palace concerning my romantic escapades with a certain prince. Yet none batted an eyelid. Still, I retreated deeper into my makeshift tent till the last one disappeared into the hall.

"Come on, let me get a look at you." Gem ordered, coaxing me out of my toasty shelter. Scrunching her brow, she inspected my head in the only way she knew how. Motherly. Which meant far more pain than was necessary. "If you keep squirming it's only going to hurt more." She cautioned. I sat still, gritting my teeth as she applied a hot cloth to the wounds on my scalp.

"Had a cousin from Loamdown, Camellia, her name was, beautiful girl, she was. Well, at least until she opened her mouth. Dogs howled the moment she spoke, poor dear. Thinking back, listening to the racket they made was a damn sight better than actually hearing her voice. It never quite seemed to find one pitch and stick to it, like an Orcish cabaret, grated every one of your nerves. Anyway," Gem continued to talk at me. "One day she was frolicking, as most shire lasses do, and somehow managed to tumble down a cliff. She wasn't too bright in the head, either, poor dear. When someone finally found her, she was covered in blood and lying so still we thought she might be dead. Good grief, gave me such a shock when her finger twitched and we realised she was just unconscious. But she awoke a while later, and my, how she _howled_. She may have been my cousin but you couldn't have paid me enough to stay there with her…" She smiled, applying pressure to the lesions with a firm hand. "Dreadfully frightened of hills or such from that point on which puts you in a predicament when you're living in the Shire." Funnily enough, I listened to the end. Gem's stories were long-winded and often had little point to them, but they were comforting in a strange way.

"You ever miss the Shire?" I was still raspy.

"All the time." She stated, wringing the cloth out. "If you've ever visited the Shire you'd know why. It's a beautiful place, but not in the same way as everything here. In the Shire, things are simple, easy, not like all the complicated stuff you've got around here. I love Eryn Lasgalen too, but the Shire will always hold a special place in my heart." For that moment I glimpsed a Gem beyond piles of fluffy, white towels and her merrily whistled tunes. "But I have friends here and besides, I know nothing will have changed when I return. It's just the way we are. In the past decade Arda has been shaken to its core, but I know that the Shire will always be the same." She smiled warmly at me before removing the cloth, now crimson with blood and replacing it with a new one. "Come on, milady. The bath is ready." I hated people helping me with things so simple. If she was anyone else I would have refused her aid, but Gem, despite being around a hundred times my junior, was like the mother I'd lost so many years ago. Her warmth and caring manner was everything about the safe, welcoming place I hadn't had since I was but a child. Not the Entwood, and obviously not here, but somewhere before all this, when I wasn't fighting for my survival and where I had barely a care in the world. And as I sunk into the steaming hot bath, and felt the Hobbit's nimble fingers working on my unpractical length of hair, I closed my eyes and thought of home.

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"Yuna!" I heard Jen's forever overenthusiastic voice ring out through my room and piercing my happy haze of sleep as I awoke to find myself still up to my neck in slightly cooler water and Gem still busying away at my hair. A mass of blonde curls popped around the bathroom door and her expressive eyes lit up as she caught sight of me. "Oh good, you're taking a nice, long bath, that's one less thing for us to take care of before tonight." Panic seized my heart as I caught sight of the white material draped over her arm.

"To...tonight?" I asked hazily, still trying to wake up. I didn't think I liked where this was going.

"Yes, tonight! Remember? Your surprise, secret leaving party. Which isn't really a surprise, but I intend on calling it that anyway, and which is less of a party than it is a small gathering together of friends, but that doesn't matter because either way, I have the perfect thing for you to wear." Alright, I _definitely_ didn't like where this was going. She held up a gown, her head poking out from behind as she beamed at me.

"No." I wore a dress once, but I _bled_ and _sweat_ just so I didn't have to. If you think that just the fact that I'm going away is going to suddenly turn me all feminine and pretty for one night, you're wrong." She sighed expansively.

"Well listen, there's no one here except Gem and I, and I for one won't tell anyone if you just _try it on_. The second I saw this dress I imagined you in it, and you suited perfectly. If you hate it that much once it's on then fine, I won't push it any further, but _please_ just try it on?" Her expression and voice was so that if I'd refused I would have felt like I'd just beaten a puppy to death using a sack of kittens.

"…_Alright_. But just trying it on, doesn't mean I'll actually _wear_ the damn thing…" I reasoned as I lifted myself out of the tub, covering what little modesty I had left with a fluffy towel that Gem seemed to pull out of her pocket. The bath had helped to clear my head a lot, and I barely thought of the afternoon's torture as I followed Jen to plan the evening's.

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"I suppose this is the part where you step on my back and pull some invisible laces 'til I can't breathe again?" I asked dryly as she did up the fastenings of the dress.

"No, actually, this dress is entirely devoid of corsetry. So no internal organs being mangled." She smiled as if she were talking about sunshine, flowers and happiness as oppose to the real subject matter. "Now," she started as she smoothed down the skirts and stepped around to face me, a smile spreading over her face as she regarded the garment on me, "go have a look over there and tell me what you _really_ think, and not just what you believe a woman like you should." Apprehensive at Jen's moment of strange normality, I took a step towards the mirror and let myself take in the sight.

The dress was, as she has said, devoid of corsetry, and yet still managed to fit scarily well, considering it certainly _looked_ Elven enough, and it was unlikely that any Elven woman with a figure like mine would be able to _afford_ a dress like this. Part of me wanted to call it a gown instead of a dress, as that was the only word that seemed suitable. It was gorgeous. Even I could see that. The colour was an off-white, almost silver but not dark enough. It set off the darkness of my skin and matched my hair perfectly, for what seemed like the first time making them seem beautiful and natural as oppose to a stark contrast with everyone else. The neckline skimmed my shoulders and plunged at the front, showing a generous amount of cleavage, and yet strangely I felt more like nobility than a harlot. Although in my experience the two professions seemed to blend together quite well sometimes. Tiny pearls were scattered liberally throughout the bodice and along the sleeves which reached down to just before my nails in a large flare. The skirt barely touched the ground, with the smallest of trains behind, the layers of gauze and silky fabric with tiny sparkling stones interwoven creating a stunning effect.

It still didn't seem like me, but then that was probably because the only time I'd ever worn something like this I was convincing myself the entire evening that I hated the whole situation and that I was being forced into it. Now…if just a couple of months, perhaps even just a few weeks ago I'd seen myself I'd have scoffed at the thought, but I could see myself wearing it willingly. Just among good friends, of course, whom I already knew wouldn't laugh at me. Jen wanted to know what I _really_ thought? I'd surprise her.

"It's…it's beautiful. It truly is." I could almost hear her grin widening in satisfaction. Just then a thought came to me. "And it fits. So very well…" I left the question unbidden. She rolled her eyes around to the floor, poking at the stone with a silken slipper.

"Well I might have had a tip from a certain Princess that the outfit you had for the tournament had been a commission from right here in Eryn Lasgalen. And it's possible that I went to the very same shop for your – rather impressive, I have to say – measurements, which may have been passed onto my dressmaker and someone must have given her instructions to alter this dress right here which I could have picked out a while ago in anticipation of thinking up a completely random reason for you wearing it because I knew it would suit you so well…" She looked up and ceased her foot's twisting. "All just speculation, of course" She said before cracking a trademark smile. How devious of her. Though I should probably have expected nothing less from Jen, and I knew she meant it all in my best interest, aside of course from her strange fascination with turning me into a Lady, which I think we both knew would never happen, as she was barely one herself. "You…you do like it, right? Please do not fool me into thinking otherwise if you truly hate it. It is your last night here for the time being, and I'd rather you be happy than have to feel like you were just pleasing me." She fingered the sleeves idly, a wistful smile on her face. I _would_ rather wear my normal clothing, if only for a sense of consistency and comfort, but for this time I thought I'd indulge her. It was, as she said, my last night here, and most likely one of the last times I'd ever see any of these people again. It didn't matter how much I embarrassed myself tonight. I'd be gone by the morning.

"It's beautiful, and I'd be very happy to wear it tonight. I can't let such craftsmanship go unnoticed." I smiled at Jen, who looked at me as if all her Yules had come at once. There was a squealing sound in the back of her throat before she enveloped me in a hug. Who needed corsets when you had overenthusiastic friends?

"And now about your hair…" She said, releasing me and immediately moving on to the aforementioned mop of wet tangles that was slopped haphazardly on the top of my head. Gem appeared from nowhere with a pile of combs, clips, and other instruments of torture. With the release tomorrow would bring in mind, I pushed any pride I had left to the back of my thoughts and resigned myself to sitting still for hours as I was made the closest to 'beautiful' I could ever hope for.

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

The palace's corridors were lit with torches fixed to brackets along the walls. Moths danced around the flames, circling closer and closer till they burned. My feet didn't make a sound as I paced the corridor outside Yuna's room. Six steps left, six right. Narin had come to my room an hour previously saying that it was my responsibility to bring -or more likely drag- Yuna to the occasion tonight. Apprehensively, I'd consented. Which meant it had taken most of that hour to decide on an outfit Yuna wouldn't make clear she abhorred and the rest working up the courage to knock on her door. In the end I'd chosen a light grey tunic and matching, darker breaches. Why where things never, ever easy?

I stopped in front of the door. This was it, I was going to do it. I had stared down legions of Uruk-Hai, fought in battles of legend, had women falling over themselves to talk with me, and yet at her door I was unsure of myelf. Swallowing slightly, I rapped my knuckles on the hardwood surface.

"Just a minute!" Came the muffled reply. Shaking my head, I chuckled softly. We both had millennia behind us, and yet were still acting like some not of age…wow. My jaw dropped. The door had opened to reveal Yuna in a silvery-white gown. It skimmed each of her voluptuous curves perfectly, exposing surprisingly petite shoulders for all the power they held. The thoroughly ungentlemanly side of me also noticed the bare part of her ample cleavage which only served to accentuate her slim waist and full hips. She was certainly like no elf I'd ever seen, yet nor was she anything close to human as she stood before me. Her tanned skin glowed in the torch light, tiny crystals sparkling at the tiniest movement of the material. Emerald green eyes regarded me coolly.

"Alright, I know I look like a clothes horse with icing but there's no need to gape." I blinked then firmly shut my mouth. I shook my head, searching for the words that suddenly escaped me.

"No, no." I started, raising my hand and brushing a finger against the velvety skin of her cheek, brushing back a stray silver hair as an excuse. Yuna's eyes instantly travelled to the floor. "You look incredible." I smiled. Hesitantly, her hand moved up to mine but instead of moving it, it rested atop.

"You're just saying that." Her voice was barely above a whisper, with no hint of mirth.

"I'm not." My reply was just as soft. Yuna's eyes met mine, the brilliant green irises shinning through thick, dark eyelashes. "You've always been beautiful, but this…" My words failed for a second time and I settled for a lopsided grin. A pained look flashed in her eyes then just as quickly was gone. I was perplexed but chose not to question it.

"You can thank Gem and Jen then, I suppose." She mumbled. "I swear those two have a deep rooted desire to see me suffer." My grin widened.

"If it helps, I think it was worth it." A crimson blush was rising in her cheeks. White teeth lightly bit her full, pink bottom lip and in that moment I realised just how I'd been longing to kiss her. Any speculation I'd ever had about what it would be like had been thoroughly blown out the door the previous morning. It was more than amazing. Not just because she was beautiful, not just because she returned it, but because it was with her. It was never about the thrill of the challenge, not like with the others. With Yuna it was just about…her.

I brought my other hand up, fingers trailing over the curve of a shoulder, the exposed stretch of her back, the arch of her long neck. The bulk of Yuna's silvery-white hair –which the dress matched faultlessly- was intricately twisted around the base of her scalp, allowing me free reign over normally concealed skin. She shivered slightly and I revelled in the product of my caresses. My fingers found their way up to her flushed cheek so that I cupped her head in my hands, her eyes studying me relentlessly. I leant in, my lips brushing hers lightly before I kissed her fully. Yuna didn't put up any type of a protest, her arms wrapping loosely around my waist. A gentle coaxing from my tongue and her mouth opened fully. She was warm, welcoming, so unlike her usual self. I delighted in the taste of her mouth, salty and addictive. I could sample it for an eternity and it would never be enough.

Was this it? Was she letting me in at last? Finally, Yuna broke the kiss, her eyelids opening to reveal a wealth of unidentifiable emotion sparkling in their jade depths.

"What was that for?" She mumbled, unwrapping her arms.

"Because I wanted to, because we might not get another chance tonight." She took a deep breath, looking at me fully.

"We better get going." Was all she said. I nodded, fingering one of many strands of pale silver hair that framed her face. Taking a step back and to the side, I offered her my arm which –after a moment of regarding both it and me- she took it.

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The night air was thick with the promise of rain, cool and refreshing. We walked in a comfortable silence, Yuna lifting the front of her dress with one hand so as to stop herself tripping, the other arm resting lightly on mine. It was the kind of thing I'd done countless time with countless maidens for festivals, celebrations, feasts and whatnot. It was monotonous, at least until now. It was hard not to snicker with Yuna's dress snagging every two seconds and her uttering curses under her breath that would have made murders on death row cover their ears and blush. Half of them I couldn't comprehend and other half I had no desire to.

Although we were still some distance from the clearing, I could make out lights in the distance. The others must already be there. The forest was completely dark otherwise, leaves crunching underfoot as we proceeded onwards.

"Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"Who told you to pick me up?" I hesitated for a second but quickly decided honesty was the best policy.

"Narin. She came to my room an hour or so ago. Why?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering, that's all." She uttered another curse as her sleeve caught on a branch. "Why in Morgoth's name would anyone need so much material on such a flimsy garment?" Yuna asked, carefully detaching herself. I waited patiently till she started walking, in no hurry to end our quiet stroll. "I think you should wear the dress next time."

"What!"

"Why should I be forced to endure the sheer agony and humiliation of wearing this torture device?"

"Yuna…"

"No, really, next time, you're wearing one. Something pink with _lots_ of embroidery and a very tight corset."

"If you really want me to."

"Really?" Her eyes brightened, no doubt at what would essentially be a repeat of the Firowen incident at the Tournament's celebratory ball.

"No."

"Why not? I think you'd look fabulous. Better than me anyway."

"Yuna, when I said you looked amazing, I meant it. It suits you perfectly, the cut, the colour. Why you can't see that is beyond me." Yuna's cheeks flushed slightly, and again her gaze found solace on the ground. "Besides, I'm missing a few curves that I believe would be necessary to hold that particular dress up." She gave me a Look™ and I promptly took the hint to shut my mouth.

As we entered the clearing, there were a few things I noticed. The first were the multicoloured paper lanterns hung from branches at head height or lower, casting soft light over the clearing. The second was the large, beige blanket laid out at the centre with a hamper of sorts set atop it. The third and most important was the distinct lack of people. I looked at Yuna. Yuna looked at me.

"I'm going to murder Jen." We muttered in unison.

"I guess this is what she meant before." I sighed, picking my way over to the blanket and sitting down.

"What do you mean?" She was still standing, her arms crossed beneath her chest making her generous bosom all the more prominent.

"I said that I needed to talk to you alone and she said she could arrange something and dragged Narin off. I guess this-" I gestured around the clearing with a hand. "-is what they came up with." Yuna nodded, walking over and plonked herself down beside me with little care for the mass of gauzy material billowing around her legs.

"I suppose it's kind of pretty." She stated with a shrug. "What's in the basket?" I looked at it then cautiously opened the lid.

"Enough drink to kill a baby Oliphant -no doubt courtesy of Firowen- and food. You hungry?" Yuna shook her head.

"Not really."

"Me neither." I stated, replacing the wicker lid. Eru, this was awkward. Normally Yuna was confident and outgoing, if a bit rude. But now she was almost…_shy,_ on the point of being bashful. But this was what I had wanted, wasn't it? We were acting like teenagers on an uncomfortable first date.

The lantern light wasn't bright enough to block out the stars, Eärendil a sparkling beacon in the heavens. I gazed at it for a while, at a loss as to how to break the obvious tension between Yuna and I. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

"You didn't wear that damned silver suit this time. Did it finally fall apart at the seams?"

"I don't wear it _that_ much." I defended lamely.

"Please, you wore it for Valar knows how long in Caras Galadhon. I've no doubt you wore it for Aragorn's coronation-" The look on my face confirmed the statement as fact. "-It made a reappearance at the end of the tournament looking rather worn so I if I had to guess I'd say you've worn it to just about every function you've been required to attend for the past six years. Am I right?"

"I didn't know you paid so much attention to my wardrobe. Perhaps you and Firowen should have a little chat."

"Why?"

"Because he noticed you were wearing one of my tunics coming out of my room yesterday morning."

"That's impressive, if not psychopathically scary." She looked down, rubbing the material of a sleeve between two fingers. "I'm guessing he told everyone."

"It's Firowen, he can't help it."

"He will after I use his tongue to polish my sword." I chuckled lightly. The statement didn't seem too farfetched. "So everyone knows that I…stayed the night." I nodded then quickly added.

"But I told them I didn't sleep with you." Yuna gave me a Look™. "In the same bed as you, I mean. Even the same room for that matter." I kept the disappointment from my tone with some effort. She blinked and gave me a slightly confused look but neglected to say anything on the subject. Instead – to my complete surprise – she leant her head on my shoulder and silence reigned once more. Not as uncomfortable as before, but still with an air of tension.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Hmm?"

"You said before that Jen did this whole thing so that you could talk to me alone. So, talk." I took a deep breath.

"I don't know. I'm sure that she assumed that the fact that we weren't married with a few dozen children meant that something must be wrong between us." I tried to keep my tone jovial. Yuna chuckled silently, a faint smile spreading on her face.

"Don't play dumb with me, blondie. You may look like you're exceptionally good at it, but that's a lie." There was silence. After a while, I asked the question that had been on my mind for a while now.

"Why are you leaving?" I felt her stiffen ever so slightly at the question. She must have known I'd ask it, but whether or not she was prepared to answer was a different manner. Her head left my shoulder as one finger trailed idly in circles on the mass of material.

"You know why." She stated, her gaze still not meeting mine.

"I mean honestly. You were fine to stay here a few months as the Tournament was held but just now you decide to leave?" I tried my best not to sound accusing. The last thing I wanted was for her to get defensive.

"I've been wanting to leave for a while now. I need to go back. I…I don't belong here. No matter how much you dress me up, try to integrate me, I'm still the same person. And I don't belong in a palace." I stopped myself from saying one of the hundred things I could think of to contradict her. If she didn't belong here with us, with me, then where _did_ she belong? In some decrepit wood fighting for her life? Dead at the bottom of a battlefield? The latter thought sent a sharp chill down my spine. I cared about her. Too much to let her go without a good reason.

"Yes, you are the same person. Did you ever think that perhaps _that_ is the reason we wanted you here and not for anything else?" The brief furrowing of her brows indicated that she hadn't.

"What does it matter?" She asked, an angry pitch rising in her voice. I was starting to understand her more. She was upset. Why, I couldn't say, I just knew that she'd probably fling herself into the heart of Mount Doom before she willingly let anyone, even me, see her at her most vulnerable. And so the wall of anger was up once more. My attention was drawn to her fingers, flexing unbidden as she tried to keep herself calm. It was then I saw them. On her palms, four nearly identical scars on each, exactly like fingernails dug in hard enough to break the skin and draw blood. They were fresh. Her gaze followed mine and immediately her hands bawled into fists to hide the telltale marks from me.

"What are those?" I asked, ignoring her last question.

"They're nothing. It doesn't matter." She said immediately.

"Yuna, show me. What are they?" I looked at her. "What's happening to you?" The question was directed at myself more than to her.

"Why do you care so much? You knew I'd be leaving, and does it even matter why? I can't stay here. I know that for sure. Why can't you just drop it?"

"Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?" I asked, getting louder. "How do you expect to get anywhere if you keep pushing people away? How can I help you if you won't let me?"

"For the last time, I don't _need_ help! If I needed help, I'd ask for it!" We both knew that was a lie but I pursued the topic no further. "And I do what's best for others and, more importantly, myself. If that means pushing people away then so be it. Don't assume that I'm some self-destructive sadist just because I don't share my intimate secrets with everyone I meet. If you're the only person that matters in your life there's no way you can get hurt. If you die, you're far too _dead_ to grieve. I've told you this before, I'm sure. Why can't you just accept that I'm different to you and your friends?"

"They're _our_ friends, Yuna, whether you like it or not. And if you're the only person in your life, then as far as I'm concerned, that's just as good as being dead." Her mouth opened, but nothing save a hesitant sound came out. I continued. "What _do_ you want, then? To live your life in total seclusion? To forget everyone that cares about you? To vanish from the memory of all until all that remains is an unmarked grave?" I could see it as I was speaking. Her eyebrows crashed together in anger, upper lip curling back in a snarl. She wanted to shout at me, tell me what exactly it was that she wanted and everything that she was feeling that made her say what she had. She wanted to. But she didn't.

"Do you think I like this?" She said, after a moment where she calmed herself to get her voice to a normal level. "Do you think I like being this sociopathic loner? Do you think I really _enjoy_ watching couples and friendships flourish before my eyes as I spend my years alone?" She was getting more aggressive as she continued.

"Well you certainly seem to, why else would you do it?" I responded, my tone matching hers.

"You're wrong." She stated simply, for the first time that evening looking me directly in the eyes. "I do it because I care too much to let people get hurt by me. People think I'm uncaring and antisocial, I'm just the opposite. You have no idea, nor do I want you to. Take my word for it and leave me be. You _will_ get hurt. Everyone will. I know it. Don't ask me why or how. This is _not_ me feeling sorry for myself, this is me telling you to _back off_." She was certainly a sight when she was angry, yet somehow I knew she'd never knowingly _seriously_ injure me. With her tone deathly calm, her eyes fixed on mine, she was more than a sight, she was terrifying. '_And yet still beautiful'_ The thought came unbidden. It was true.

"Why now? Why after everything that's happened in the past few days do you want to leave now? Is it my fault? Do I make you uncomfortable? I'll slow down, I'll even stop completely if you want me to, I just—"

"Stop what? Kissing me whenever you 'want to' and using me to baffle your potential suitors? Don't be naïve, Legolas, and don't tell me you thought that it would get any further than that because I know you'd be lying. It was just a bit of fun on your part, and I realise that, because that's all it was for me too. To tell the truth I was just curious as to whether or not all that talk about your ability to make any woman go weak in the knees was true or not." I resisted the urge to ask her if I'd succeeded, and opened my mouth to form a more suitable reply, but she stood up before I could. "Oh, and by the way, if anyone asks, _I_ used _you_. Goodnight." And with that she swept away, skirts twirling about her feet, shimmering in the lantern light.

I was speechless. Which seemed to happen a disconcertingly large amount with her. Just like that, she was gone. I wanted to call after her. To think up with some magical words that would suddenly make everything ok once more, but they did not come to me. When I had kissed her before, she responded, seeming quite happy with it. And yet now I got the feeling that if I tried once more I'd have one of the pins holding her hair in place buried in my thorax. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this confused. Probably around her. She made no sense. She had seemed so ready to forget her old philosophy and accept the fact that people could not only stand her, they _cared_ about her. _I_ cared about her. And now this. I wanted to know so badly why she felt this way, and what, if anything, I could do. But I knew my questions would not be welcome. Sighing, I resigned myself to pondering the enigma that was the Lady Yunalesca.

A.N. Rai: On to the reviews.

Honeymuffins, Lillyrose1, nazgulli, Idhrenniel, Courtney, FFAMasquerade2005, silvestar – Cookies for all. Big ones.

Lady Amytal – Have a dark, bittersweet, foot-wide cookie.

Yavanna and SunStar – Slush by the barrelful is heading your way soon. Well, as slushy as Yuna could be. I don't think any of us can see her reading from 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' any time soon…And yeah, everything will become clear soon…

Chimera – Thanks for the offer, hun. If for some weird reason I decided I didn't want to be her co-author anymore, let me tell you she'd NEED a beta ;). Misses out words all over the place, poor dear.

Jetonna – So do we J. I promise you we won't let this thing slide again.

Melanie – Wow I had no idea we had such devoted readers! I'm so happy to be able to write this again for everybody.

Hina – Ha! On the net! I doubt it somehow, but it's a nice thought anyway :D. Who cares if this thing has some canon lovers puking up their livers, it's fun, dammit.


	33. Gone

A.N. Rai: Sorry this chapter is very late. Computer problems. Big ones. And sorry it's all broken up and weird. Just bear with us.

_'…__Here I am beside myself again._

_I'm torn apart by words that you have said._

_And all in all,_

_I know we're falling apart._

_Where did you run to so far away…'_

_Finch – 'Ender'_

Chapter 33: Gone

_(Iavas_: Late summer.

_Firith_: late autumn.)

When had _Iavas_ come and gone? Leaves littered the ground, a mix of brilliant red, deep gold and dingy brown signalling the coming of _Firith_. Weeks had passed since the tournament and I had barely noticed. Had it been her ceaseless presence in my mind? Had I really been so oblivious to everyone and everything around me? I hadn't even known about how Aldaríon felt till she'd told me. Why hadn't I realized how I felt earlier? When I had more time to do something about it…

Jen and Celoril smiled at me as I turned the corner into the spacious courtyard. She had obviously roped him into a game of cat's cradle. Strings laced his fingers, Jen's forehead creased in concentration. Cer lounged on the bench behind her, a book held up to his nose. To his right, Firowen and Nólad where enthralled in a game of stones. Firowen's black polished pebbles covered a generous amount of the board, surrounding the majorities of Nólad's white. But the twin was known for escaping tight spots. Sitting between the two in a light purple dress, Narin's eyes were intent on the monochrome board, recording either player's movements.

"So, how'd it go last night?" Jen asked, her fingers intertwining with the string looped over Celoril's.

"About as well as I could have hoped." I stated shortly, taking a seat next to the pair.

"Do tell." Firowen rubbed his chin, placing a stone so that it trapped another of Nólad's white.

"Well, it actually went really well up until the part where she said that we were no more than friends, if that, was angered, and left."

"Oh."

"But…but…it was perfect!" Jen spluttered indignantly. "Did you at least kiss her?" I nodded pensively.

"Then what went wrong?" Narin inquired, concerned. I decided I had deceived them for long enough. She was their friend as well as mine, they deserved to know what I did.

"I noticed she had nail marks on her palms that looked self inflicted. When I asked her how it happened she became defensive and said it was nothing."

"Maybe it was." Nólad ventured, nonchalantly making a move which caused Firowen to curse. I took a deep breath.

"There's something I haven't told you." Six pairs of eyes swivelled to meet my own and I looked down. "More precisely, the reason Yuna stayed in my room the two nights ago."

"You _did_ have sex!" Jen screeched breathlessly. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, that's not it."

"So, what is it?" Celoril flexed his fingers, gaining a scornful look from his sister.

"Something happened to her. I don't know what it was. She wasn't herself. I can't even begin to think what took over her. She ran out of the palace, not even knowing or, I suspect, caring where she was going. She ended up in the lake, which I think must have shaken her out of whatever it was. She…she almost drowned. If I hadn't gone to see her…" I left the statement hanging. There was a thoughtful silence.

"Did you try to ask her about it? Last night, I mean. Maybe that's why she got angry. You know how defensive she is." Narin asked in a moment of insightfulness.

"…Yes…I did. Something's wrong with her and I just want to know what it is. With hindsight I probably should have known she wasn't going to react well to an interrogation."

"Where is she now?" Firowen asked, his game with Nólad forgotten for now.

"Well…" I thought about it. I hadn't seen her all day. I'd barely rested the night before and spent most of that morning in the practice yards, where everything seemed clearer. "I…don't know…" I could tell from their faces that none of them had seen her either. Dull panic gripped my heart for a moment. I pushed it down, opting instead to turn without a word and head for her room. I had to find her.

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I knocked and after no answer opened her door to find a practically empty room. She had few possessions with her, so I expected the complete lack of clutter. The bed was made, with barely any evidence of her sleeping in it the night before, but Gem was an excellent maid so that was also to be expected. My eye was drawn to the wooden chest next to the wardrobe. Without hesitation I strode over and opened it. She had barely a thing when she arrived, but they were all missing. Part of me reasoned that she might just have decided to wear her own clothes and practice with Lucreccía for the morning, as well as somehow taking with her the other possessions she came with. But the more rational part of me recognised the false hope. As I rose I glimpsed the empty spot on the vanity, where the trophy normally rested. On an impulse I returned to my room. All my fears were confirmed. There, on a counter, stood the trophy, tall and gleaming. She would never have given it to me unless she knew she couldn't keep it with her. Like if she was leaving finally. So they were right.

"She's gone…" For a moment I thought the voice to be my own, then realized as I turned that it belonged to Firowen. I nodded.

"I knew she would eventually, I just denied it I suppose." I stood, staring at the trophy. Its presence did nothing but remind me of her, the defiant look in her eyes as she promised me it would be hers, the awe on every spectator's face, including mine, as she pulled off death-defying stunts on the spur of the moment. She was incredible.

"Legolas…" Firowen had entered the room to come up beside me. "What was happening to her?" I met his gaze, seeing the honest concern there and wondering how Yuna could ever have thought we didn't care for her.

"I don't know." I said honestly. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." I turned and left without a word. I had to tell the stable hands to ready my horse.

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I walked purposefully. My father had been wary when I told him what it was I was doing, but I would not be swayed. He had warned me of rogue Orc sightings earlier that week but if anything that only served to strengthen my resolve. I had no doubt that Yuna probably _would_ go through with her threat involving _that_ butter knife if she found out I'd thought for a second that she couldn't handle herself, but faced with the utterly impossible she did have a rather nasty habit of spiting in its face. Sometimes quite literally.

With these thoughts demanding my attention as I made my way to the stables ready to depart, I didn't notice the others until I almost bumped into Firowen. Cer and the twins stood by his side, and a quick once-over told me they were ready for travelling.

"What, you didn't _really_ think we'd ever let you go on your own, now, did you?" Firowen said, a grin spreading over his face.

"I…" I considered my options. "Thank you."

"Any idea where to start looking?" Firowen questioned as I strapped a pack to Arod's side.

"None whatsoever. We'll head for Fangorn for now, keeping on the lookout for any sign of her, though she is not one easily tracked."

"If she were to cover her trail so, isn't it possible that she wouldn't want us to follow her?" There was a thoughtful silence. He was right, but I couldn't just give up on her. I had to know…

"Perhaps. But there are worse things than us that she could be running from. And I have to know what that is. I have to know why…" I trailed off. "Besides, if I hadn't done things against her will before it is likely she would not be alive today." The hideous thought stuck me that I did not know for certain if she were alive or not. I reasoned that this was absurd, that no one would really want to kill just her, and even if they were there was little likelihood of them entering the palace, but stranger things had happened…

Too many words and not enough action. Without another thought I mounted and the others followed suite. I would find out.

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"They were no renegades. No leaderless mob, aimlessly killing. Their placement here. It reeks of something more organized. If not us, than someone else…" Firowen let the sentence trail off, the implications all too clear. They bore the same armour as those we chased into Fangorn. As those that led us to Yunalesca.

"Search them." Came the order that I later realized I had issued. Night was fast falling upon us, and we were almost at the Wood's end. I had barely thought of anything but her since we had left, riding too fast to make any sort of conversation, even though I doubted I would be able to contribute. We had to press on. I kicked over an Orc, one of many we had apprehended and dealt with. Every one I cut down became those that hunted her many months ago. Those that had worn her to her very core. That would have killed her if not…

"Rings." Came a voice to my left. I turned to see Celoril crouched over a corpse, rifling through a pouch that had been strapped to its belt. He poured the contents on the ground, rifling through them with a gloved finger. I continued my search for anything. Anything that would give us some idea of why they were here. Perhaps lead us back to her. An assortment of pilfered jewellery with little significance as well as some gold coins tumbled out of the fallen orc's pack as I shook it out. Still nothing. I cast my eyes to the sky. Anor had begun its descent. We would need to move on soon.

"Wait, that one there." I heard Nólad's voice from over by Celoril. "Look." I saw him examining a silver ring, his eyes aglow with fascination.

"What is it?" I asked, coming over to investigate.

"See here. The Swan." The circular signet was, as he said, that of a white swan in profile, its wings spread against a royal blue background. "Prince Imrahil and his Knights of Dol Amroth."

"There's another." Celoril added, fishing out one more identical ring from the small pile.

"But…how would these Orcs get them? The Knights are revered for their strength in battle. I find it hard to believe that they would fall to a band of orcs such as these…" Nólad contemplated.

"There are only two." Cer said, speaking for the first time. "Two men, however strong, would have great difficulty in defeating an entire troop of orcs, most likely much larger than they are now, as numbers will have thinned. Perhaps they were even ambushed. Even so, the fact remains that at some point the orcs must have come from Dol Amroth or thereabouts."

"But what if this was just looted from a family who's father, even grandfather had been a knight? Anything is a possibility. That just one Orc has a few rings cannot mean much. We cannot afford to jump to conclusions." Celoril, ever the grounding voice of reason, challenged.

"Here." Firowen said before I had a chance to respond. He handed me a clasp, white, outlined with a backdrop of blue, and in the shape of a regal swan. "Another one. This cannot be a coincidence." I considered the possibilities. Either we journey to Fangorn, realise we know nothing, then grudgingly return home, or we head for the South and Prince Imrahil.

"It is the only lead we have. We continue to Fangorn, find what we can from there. If Yuna is not there and we have no other ideas as to her whereabouts, we make for Dol Amroth." As we mounted and continued our journey, something occurred to me. Perhaps she left without telling anyone because she didn't _want_ to be followed. For the first time that day I listened to reason. But reason couldn't explain how I knew something was wrong. I knew I had to follow her. However angry she may be when I found her, which I would, it would be worth it. I knew. I had to tell her. And I had to find out. With renewed purpose I settled back into the journey that would continue through the night.

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"The Wood is as unwelcoming as on our last visit, Legolas." Firowen remarked as we slowed to a walk outside Fangorn, where the ancient roots and branches of its inhabitants created an almost impermeable wall surrounding the perimeter. I smirked in spite of myself. He was right. But there was no way I'd turn back now.

"And yet enter we must. Let us hope there is more to welcome us than the darkness." We dismounted and approached the mass of wood. Perhaps it was my imagination that caused the roots to part ever so slightly as I neared, creating a larger passageway.

We persevered onwards, winding through the trees, barely saying a thing to each other. I didn't know what we were looking for. Perhaps the Ents would know where she was? But they rarely chose to reveal themselves. A trace of her. Anything. We were running out of options.

Celoril stopped for a moment, his hand on one of the plenty trees, gazing over the slight valley below. I had barely begun to continue onwards when a shout came from his direction. I whipped around to see the very ground beneath him rise up and shake him off. Old wood creaked as the tree emerged from the soil, its roots taking form, its branches reaching out as arms, and its upper trunk blinking in surprise at being disturbed.

"Wh…what is this…you…you are no orcs…and yet…nor are you…the young pheredil…" It wheezed, the voice rasping out in what sounded like great gasps of air. If indeed trees had lungs. I decided this was something to ponder another time.

"It is for her that we come. The Lady Yunalesca. The pheredil of which you speak." I said, stepping forward as Cer helped Celoril to his feet.

"…Yuna…lesca…she has not…walked in these woods…for…a time…" It lurched forward, a thin strip of light falling on its pale white and grey leaves.

"No…that is why we are here. Do you know where she is?"

"I…know…not of…what you speak…why have you…disturbed me…?"

"I…well...we…what are you called?"

"Hmm…you may…call me by the same name…Yunalesca does…Gelmir…in your tongue, Elf, or Winterbark in the common…" He scanned our group, his primordial eyes blinking heavily. "Where…where is…she? She has left…I can feel this…the attacks…they have been no more since then…" So the attacks stopped once she left. Did that mean they were definitely after her?

"That is why we are here. We do not know, and we must find her. She…may be in great danger." I didn't know this for a fact, but I felt it. And that was all I needed.

"Hmm…about the pheredil I know much…the one that brought her here...told me of her heritage…of the forgotten race…the uncorrupted Avari."

"The Avari?" I had never heard of them except for as those that fell to become Orcs. The fact that some may have been uncorrupted and continued living as elves escaped my knowledge.

"Yes…indeed…the elves of the south…of the sea…of the sky…"

"Did Yuna know of this?" My mind was racing. Elves of the sea and sky? This was an entirely new concept.

"She was…to know nothing…of her people…lest she try to return…" Something I identified as a drawn-out yawn escaped his gargantuan mouth. I couldn't let him go back to sleep yet. Not when I was so close to finding out.

"The south, where in the south?" A brainwave. "The city of Dol Amroth? The Bay of Belfalas? Is that where she is from?" It made no sense, especially not to me, but it was a chance.

"Where the land meets the sea, beneath the shadows of the White Mountains…" And with that he had settled back into his nook in the side of the valley and was at rest once more. I turned to my group, each of whom had varying degrees of confusion and shock on their faces.

"We make for Dol Amroth."

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

"There, my Lady." He raised an arm and pointed at the mass of clouds swirling overhead not a league from us. "There you will find what you seek." That was probably the most words he had strung together aimed at me since we had left. I may have had nothing left to lose, but I could still have my doubts.

"And what might that be? What exactly is it that you think I seek?" I asked, keeping my gaze set on the gathering ahead. I heard the barest hint of a smirk in his tone, but I chose to ignore it for now.

"Only you can know for sure." Another ambiguous statement. He was using me, of that I was certain. I knew not what for, but it didn't matter, because I was using him too, and I was far better at manipulating people than he. Only human. "And now the time has come. Call them. They will hear you. They must. They are bound." He wasn't used to talking to people. That much was obvious. His short, staccato sentences belied an impatience, although if what he had confided in me was true, he had a right to impatience. Not as much as I, however. He may have waited his entire life for this moment, but so had I. And I was far, far older than him. Following his instructions, I called out, summoning them to me. I felt stupid standing on the Valar-forsaken coast of some island, but apparently it was necessary. I fought off the swell of the sea in my ears and the promise of paradise within my reach to concentrate on my task.

And come they did.

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

The stone walls of the city's inner quarter loomed ever higher as we approached the gate, already opening with our imminent arrival. We bore neither standards nor any other indication that we were not simply messengers, and yet there was whom I assumed was an official to greet us as we slowed our horses and dismounted, with almost invisible stable boys at hand to lead them away.

"Welcome, my Lords." Said the middle-aged man, his dark hair flecked with grey.

"I am Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen, son of King Thranduil. My party and I come seeking assistance with…a rather delicate matter. Would an audience with the Knight-Captain be possible? An historian? Anyone?" I hated these formalities. Usually I would reserve revealing my lineage, as I wished for no special treatment, but in this case time was of the essence. If what the old Ent had said was true…there was a reason for Yuna to not have known about her people…whatever secrets they held. 'Lest she try to return.' What could happen then? And the Orcs, having passed through, perhaps even sent from Dol Amroth. As what? An attack? That would be useless. More like…a diversion. But from what? Or whom? I had to find out, and being a Prince meant matters would be dealt with more swiftly. Or at least I hoped so.

"My Lord Prince." He acknowledged, bowing his head in a brief gesture of respect. "I am afraid the Knight-Captain is out of the city at this time. I can, however, give you an audience with the Prince Imrahil, if that is your wish. He would want to be informed of your arrival."

"Best take it." Firowen said quietly to me. "Imrahil, as you know, will want to help us. And I am sure he will know of someone who can, if he cannot." I nodded.

"Yes, if you would." He bowed his head once more and muttered something to a random peon who scuttled off ahead of us.

"Certainly. Follow me."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Prince Legolas!" Was the sound that welcomed me as we entered the small courtyard where Imrahil was stood, obviously having just finished a meal from the plates being cleared away in the background. "And your party. Greetings to you all. It has been a good few years now." His smile still retained all the sincerity as the first time I had met him. Faramir took after his uncle all too well.

"Prince Imrahil." I smiled faintly in return, though I ached to find what we needed and continue as soon as was possible. "It is good to see you."

"What brings you here? I gather this is not just a cordial visit, but that there is a more pressing matter." His smile faded. "What is the nature of your troubles?" Now that he had asked, I didn't know. I couldn't begin to describe the nature of my troubles, let alone this one in particular. So I decided to begin at the most sensible place: the beginning.

"A woman. Of Elven heritage. She is missing from the Wood. Whether she went of her own volition or whether she was forced, the fact remains that she is gone, and the only evidence we have suggests that she may be here. Or around here in any case." Imrahil's brow furrowed as he thought through the matter.

"Why do you believe she would come here?" He asked finally. I knew better than to mince my words or to tell him anything other than the truth.

"There have been attacks on Eryn Lasgalen. Orcs. This is nothing new, but as we cut down a band of them, we found tokens of a battle with some of your knights." Even as I spoke I realised how feeble an excuse this was. I elaborated. "They appeared to be perhaps the same ones that had attacked her home a while before. She was forced to flee with us to the wood because of them. If they followed her, then…" I let the implications explain themselves.

"Her home, you say? Who is this Elven woman you speak of? And where does she make her home?" Suddenly it occurred to me that Imrahil more than likely had known Yunalesca at some point. She did get around rather a lot, perhaps even fought at his side. It was a chance I had to take.

"Lady Yunalesca, of Fangorn, the Entwood. Do you know of her?" A smirk crossed the prince's face.

"If you are referring to the silver-haired, foul-mouthed 'Lady' that somehow managed to invoke the fear of the Valar in some of my finest fighters then yes, I know of her very well." He recalled with mirth. "Do you suggest that she has been kidnapped?"

"It is a possibility, though she could always have left of her own will. But she was not at her home when we went. We were told to journey to '_Where the land meets the sea, beneath the shadows of the __White Mountains__'_ to find her." There was a drawn-out silence. Cer and Firowen conferred quietly over the matter while Imrahil appeared to be mournfully making a decision.

"I know of one whom can help you. Come with me." We followed without a word. Who could this be? Perhaps someone that would know of these ancient legends the Ents appeared to speak of. A guide? Someone that had seen her? Anything was what I wished for. I pondered who he could possibly have spoken of as we wound down passages and corridors, deeper and deeper into the fortress, it seemed. A large expanse of oak complete with a brass handle on one side appeared before me as I shook out of my stupor. The Prince knocked three times, then when there was no audible answer opened the heavy door and light flooded into the corridor.

Inside the generously sized room was a window from which the daylight shone through to the bed draped in gauzy fabrics, several bookcases containing weather-beaten and dog-eared volumes of text, a table, a few chairs, a closet, and everything else one would expect to find within living quarters. At the end of the room was another, much more averagely sized door, which, as my eyes skipped over it, began to open. The prince stepped forward as a figure emerged from the doorway beyond, disguised by the brightness of the sun directly behind. The figure turned to shut the door and as the lighting returned to normal the first thing that took my breath away was the fact that the person before us sported snow-white hair that fell to the waist of their loose garment, arranged away from the face in a series of uncomplicated braids. Another was the sharp contrast with the darker skin of their elongated ears.

As he turned to face us, I realised that I was half hoping, against all logic, that it would be her. His face was entirely ageless, yet his deep grey eyes held an eternity of wisdom in their depths.

"Prince Imrahil. And others, I see. To what do I owe this honour?" He asked in an implacable accent, a contented half-smile making him seem as serene as his surroundings.

"Arandir, this is Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas, this is my good friend Arandir." Imrahil introduced, smiling.

"It is a pleasure." Arandir acknowledged.

"You…you look like…Yuna…" Words failed me. I could only stutter what came to mind. Confusion flashed across his face before understanding dawned. I noticed Imrahil slip out silently, but was too engaged to care.

"Ah, you mean the infamous grandchild of Nienna. Yes, I imagine I would resemble her, somewhat. In the same way you resemble your companion here." He nodded at Firowen. "We are, after all, on some level, of the same blood. We are all of Elven heritage, yet the subtle differences mark out the People. Although in our case the differences are more apparent, I suspect."

"Your people? Who are they? Why are there so few of you?" A pained look crossed his features momentarily, and he looked to the floor as he began to pace.

"Their name. That has been all but forgotten. Perhaps you would know us as a branch of the _Avari_? Although, as I'm sure you can see, we are no Orcs. We dwelt south of here, of the coast of what is now called the Isle of Tolfalas, hidden from human eyes by the clouds surrounding our once-great city." He stopped and looked up at me. "But all great things must one day end. We were foolish, and suffered the consequences. What remains is plain to see. Nearly all living memory of our civilisation has passed, and I am the sole remaining pure Avari in Arda, as far as I know. Yet this is only as of recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Four. No, three of us remained. The fourth gave his life so we might be saved. I live here, and have done so for quite some time since this empire was forged. As a companion and historian, even teacher to those that dwell here. And yet my existence is kept a secret, but this is for my own purpose. I enjoy the solitude. Another, however, she travelled to the east and to the south. Living among what you know now as the Haradrim. And the last, Nienna, as you may know, fled to Lórien, where she did the unthinkable. Married and reproduced." His tone was laced with regret. What I really wanted to know, however, was what all of this had to do with Yuna.

"Why was it so wrong for her to have a child? Surely you would want to preserve your race as best you could?" Celoril asked in a strange display of insight.

"Normally, yes. The birth of a child would be a wondrous occasion. But not when she was cursed to carry the blood of her mother, of all of our people, in her veins."

"The same blood that Yuna carries still…" I mused.

"Exactly. Our people can never return to the city. The risk is too great."

"The risk of what? Yuna may be there as we stand here talking, and she knows nothing of what you speak. There must be someone, somewhere, telling her to go there. What is the danger?" His face became grim.

"If what you say is true we may already be too late. The blood of our people, no matter how diluted, can command the very heart of the city itself. Open doors with barely a thought, pass through barriers created for a reason. Hidden within what remains of the city is the power to command nations of Men, Elves, Dwarves and Orcs, with the barest whim of the master driving brothers to attack brothers, never ceasing 'til their ends are met. We took the keys with us, and separated because of them. One keeping each. It was not long ago that I heard of the murder of the last, in Haradrim. The suspected culprit is her own aspiring pupil, who left with her piece. A month has passed since I awoke to find my third missing. Stolen from me. Even here. Even with my secrecy. He knows too much, whoever he is. And the last…from what I hear it has been passed onto Yunalesca herself. If all these things are put together, something we were never meant to control could come to light, and now the foolishness of many millennia past could destroy the world as we know it now. We have no time. You must go." His expression and voice grew more and more urgent as he continued. "Only one can I send to the city as long as the pact still remains. Choose quickly. The fate of us all shall rest in your hands."

I turned to the others at the sound of this new revelation, and a unanimous agreement looked in my direction. I had no idea what he meant by the last words he spoke, or by most of what he said throughout. But I had a feeling it would all become sickeningly clear soon enough. I turned back to Arandir to see him through the door, out on the large balcony jutting out from under the cliff edge that the palace rested on, the sea strangely calm far below. His arms stretched above his head as he called out to the heavens, chanting some long forgotten verse. We followed him, standing at a respectable distance, taking in this spectacle. And suddenly the chanting ceased, and all was silent once more aside from the sloshing of the sea against the cliff face and the whistling of the wind beneath the rock above. He looked back at us.

"One comes for you even now. Long ago, we made a pact with these majestic creatures. If it is to their convenience they will heed the call of any with our blood. They serve no masters, rather choosing to give aid to us. Their generations may have come and passed, but the pact remains, and forever will." As he spoke, mingled in with the swell of the ocean was another sound, and a shadow appeared on the waters. It descended regally, its gigantic wings beating a gale towards us as the Eagle found a perch on the wall of the balcony, at least twice as tall as myself as he stood proudly. His yellowed eyes skimmed over Arandir, then over to me, and held my gaze as I approached. Never had I heard an account from anyone the eagles chose to allow to ride them, but I was sure it would be a monumental experience.

"Good luck." I heard Firowen say. This was echoed by nods from around the group, which I returned as I climbed onto the thick balcony railing and, quelling the rising uncertainty in me, mounted the Eagle.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

Ruins. Everywhere. Towers lay broken on the cracked tiles of stone below. Like a child's plaything, destruction had swept through the city as the frustrated hand of the creator. There was no one to speak of around. Any corpses there may had been were long gone, turned to ashes and dust by the sun and time. And yet in my head people ran screaming past me, their eyes far back in their heads as they frenzied, some being chased, some chasing. And they all looked so much like me…

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" I demanded, whirling round to turn to my companion. And suddenly I was dreaming once more, and it was all so real. My hands covered in blood from my own nails digging into my tortured scalp. The dream ended as it had never begun. He took long, deliberate steps in my direction.

"What you were looking for. What we were both looking for." His hand moved to the pack at his side, all the while his gaze steady on me. Those forceful eyes boring into mine, so dark a brown they were almost…black…

"For the last time, why don't you tell me what it is you're looking for. What _I'm_ apparently looking for, even." Something, somewhere was telling me to get out. This situation was too much. He was dangerous, bad news, all of that. But still, only human. This was my last justification for staying and not calling for the Eagle to stay as its huge wings propelled it into the sky. Only human._'Get out. Get out. Get out!'_

"My dear, it doesn't even matter any more." His hand lifted, and suddenly, the second I looked into his eyes, I knew no more.

A.N. We love our little cliffies. And yeah, little update on things about us for FFAMasquerade2005 and anyone else that might be interested… :D I (Rai) am 16 going on 17 and Tali is 17. We were 13 and 14 respectively when this story was conceived and writing began. So, wonder where this stupidly implausible story came from? ;) ). Thanks a bunch to all our readers whom have still somehow put up with us for this long. But I'm afraid it's got to the point where we're wondering if anyone's actually reading this. There's no point in writing if it's just going to float around in cyberspace, is there? Please, please, _please_ review! Even if it's only to say 'hey, I'm reading this, rock on' or whatever. It means a rather pathetic amount to the both of us :D Also, aware Nienna is the name of a Valar. Don't care. It's a damn pretty name.

Reviews:-

FFAMasquerade2005: Hope that cleared everything up ;)

Yavanna and SunStar: You guys (?) rock. We adore you. Read on…

Lilena: Don't give up on us just yet ;) more soon, promise.


	34. Sacrifice

A.N. Sorry for the lateness. Mostly to do with fucking technology crapping out and, due to that, a lack of communication between Tali and I about this chappy. Getting it proof-read and all that crap. Sorry for the shortness, also. We'll get back on track soon enough. Also….

I just saw these screenshots ( © Blizzard and all that crap) and in my mind they fitted perfectly with the city. So just image these, but whiter, bluer, etc.

http/ tried to climb your steps  
I tried to chase you down  
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground  
I tried to earn my way  
I tried to change this mind  
You better believe that I tried to beat this,  
So when will this end  
It goes on and on  
And over and over and over again  
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop  
Till I step down from this for good…"

_Lifehouse__ – 'Sick Cycle Carousel'_

Chapter 34: Sacrifice

The massive stone tiles below my feet were bleached by the sun, which seemed so much closer as far as I was above the sea. The Eagle had grudgingly flown here with me clinging onto its back as it gained altitude. I couldn't have imagined where it might be heading, but then I saw it. The mass of clouds that clumped together unnaturally, like a hurricane brewing for eternity. The creature's wings pounded beneath me, sending wisps of vapour dissipating into the air as it bore a hole through the clouds, and then suddenly it was in front of me. The giant structure, suspended somehow above the ground, as if the very terrain itself had been torn from the earth. I was deposited and left by the eagle within a matter of seconds and I was alone. There was something wrong about it, though, something I could feel by looking around at the artful buildings, the decorated streets, all of which should have been surrounded by life. And then I noticed the horrible lack of noise. It wasn't the serene stillness of Lórien, nothing like that, more like the sound of a thousand voices suddenly silenced. The air tingled with a strange kind of energy, like the place was made entirely of wizards' magic and enchantments. I reasoned, as I looked over the edge, that I probably wasn't far off.

The architecture was like nothing I had ever seen. Footpaths curved up the sides of impossibly shaped towers, bridges everywhere, over canals that had long since dried up. Pagodas and bandstands of all sizes littered the city, some with strange markings, possibly runes, etched up the sides of the pillars that held up the stunning shapes of the roofs. Stone was meticulously carved into statues, decorative pedestals, rooftops, stairs, banisters, windows, everything seemed embellished somehow, and the entire place glowed with the beauty of the long forgotten civilisation. But then it was again. The sinister insinuation of…something. Pieces of the stone were chipped off here and there. Cracks, snapped wood, things that did not happen merely with age. A massacre. A battle. Something had happened here that caused these people to be silenced...

_'…the barest whim of the master driving brothers to attack brothers, never ceasing 'til their ends are met…'_

Was this it? Was this all that remained of their glorious culture? Lanterns hung on curved stands, flagging my path through the city to the gigantic central structure that loomed overhead. A temple, perhaps. A palace. Something that was as grand as the building itself suggested. Maybe I would find Yunalesca there. If at all. It occurred to me suddenly that I still had no idea where she was, just a very vague and seemingly impossible reason to believe that she was in this ethereal place. But that was better than nothing at all. I had to find her. Had to save her from whatever it was she was running from, even if it was herself. My bow in hand, ready for the worst, whatever that may be, I continued.

The huge building ahead got closer. Perfectly sculpted ponds, probably at one time having been filled with lilies and aquatic flowers, were set out in front, round basins beside them indicating pots for trees. Now it was barren. But that was to be expected after so many thousands of years in solitary under the hear of the sun above. But something else caught my attention. The doorway of the temple was massive, extending inside to a corridor and dotted with pillars, the pattern marking out the walkway worn with age. From within it, I saw movement.

Squinting harder, I made out the image of a figure dressed in a tunic of light grey and black, with charcoal hair and a blade at his side. Next to him, there she was. Her silver hair shone white in the sun, the tan of her skin seeming even richer in contrast. The first thing that struck me, however, was what she was wearing. I felt the sudden reflex to drop my jaw to the floor, but suppressed it barely. Tiny amounts of fabric were stretched and draped over her figure, showing off far more than was practical or necessary. But she didn't seem to care. Not about that, nor anything else as she descended the stairs alongside him.

Suddenly, his gaze caught mine, and his well-concealed shock was evident in the flaring of his nostrils and gritting of his teeth. But he held his composure well, and continued at the same pace as before, as did I. As for Yuna…she looked directly in front of her with her posture strong, the very image of nobility were it not for the entirely blank expression on her face. Although, I considered with irony, the majority of the non-royal nobility, particularly humans, tended to wear expressions reminiscent of chewing cows. But that was hardly an appropriate thought for the current situation, so I pushed it aside. Her features remained entirely neutral, not even a flinch as she saw me. Nothing. And her eyes. Devoid of their usual range of expression, black as ebon, fathomless whirlpools where that beautiful green that haunted me still once was. What had he done to her? For a moment anger overcame my every sense and my hands itched to drive a blade into his neck. It was him, it had to be. As he got closer I saw he was one and the same as the man whom had come fourth or fifth in the Tournament. I never found out his name. There was something disconcerting about him. How he was so conspicuous that you wondered how you never noticed where he was until he talked to you. Not that he ever had.

It didn't matter. I would find out what it was he did to her. If he hurt her I would kill him myself. Whether he held a weapon or not. He could beg for mercy for all I cared. The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen was not supposed to think such thoughts, but this was different. I was not in it for the honour, it was for her. He was close now. My eyes bored into his as he approached, Yuna lifeless at his side. I noticed that she held Lucreccía with a light grip that gave away nothing. Adorning her wrist was an elaborate silver bracelet with a large clasp, several chains attaching variously sized and shaped rings on her slender fingers. The blue, opal like stones set throughout the cuff seemed to shine brighter than was normal. The same could be said for the long amulet encircling her neck, the perfectly round gem set in the centre of a circle of inscribed silver. Her garments were like nothing I had seen before. It left very little to the imagination, with a small slip of cloth clasped in the centre of her chest, which was made all the more ample by the large strip of skin exposed in the middle. Her midriff was bare, as was the rest of her save for a length of white chiffon fabric at her front and back suspended by a complex network of chains and threads to protect her modesty, what little of it remained. Why was she wearing such a thing? Had he told her to do it? But I could not think of any scenario within reason where she would agree to dress like an exotic street walker, for lack of a better term. What was going on?

He stopped a few metres away, and she obediently followed suite a few feet behind.

"Why do you insist on interfering with affairs that have nothing to do with you?" He asked in his unidentifiable accent, his voice unhurried and calm. Or so he seemed.

"This had everything to do with me the second you chose to involve Yunalesca. What did you do to her?" I demanded, my voice equally schooled to give away nothing but the barest hint of my blind rage.

"She involved herself, whether you believe me or not. She came to me. She wished to leave the Wood and seek out where she came from. So I took her here. I assume from your presence that you have already spoken to that fool Arandir. He would stop her from living out her destiny, what she must do." He smoothly ignored my question. And I knew when I was being lied to. He was trying to make me lose my footing. To forget why I was here, and to think that perhaps Yuna wanted this. That she wanted to leave us…leave me…

For a moment it worked. I was suddenly unsure of what I was doing here. Perhaps she _did_ want this.

But no. I caught the glint in his eyes that said I had every right to be there. That told me he was using her.

"If she is here of her own accord then why does it look like you've sapped the life out of her? And why isn't she saying anything? _What_ did you _do_ to her?" I demanded again, drawing my white knives.

"You talk too much, elf. You would stand in my way, like all the others." His eyes narrowed, and the barest of smirks appeared on his chiselled face as he turned his head to Yuna. "Kill him." Came the brief order. To my horror, she nodded, turned to me, drew Lucreccía from its ornate scabbard, and advanced.

"Yuna?" I addressed her directly for the first time, whilst backing away from the, I had to admit, terrifying sight of her coming towards me with murder in her eyes. She was under his control completely. She didn't even flinch…

"There is no point in trying to reach her, she is too far gone. Her appearance should be evidence enough of that. Accept your fate." He said with a casualness that enraged me as he watched, motionless

Suddenly she lunged, and, with a surprising strength, swung her blade at my abdomen. I barely parried it, but was more ready for her next flurry of strikes as she advanced, caring about nothing but her order. When I had fought her before, she was never this intense. But now I was the enemy. In a simple first blood duel, mortal wounds were not an option. Here they were a must. If she was holding back before, it was certainly not the case now. The wrongness of it all struck me. Even at her most obstinate, at her most aggressive, I had never seen her like this. Even when she fought hordes of Orc and all of their kind, when she cried out with rage at any that would dare attack her, no foe had she faced with the concentration and ability that she showed now. And I was to be the focus of her attacks. When I came here to help her.

_'I will kill him.'_

Her attacks were strong, sure, every muscle in her arms flexing as she swung, her bare abdomen twisting with her body as she spun to strike again. There was no conservation of energy, she was putting her all into her mission: to kill me. Was this what Arandir had spoken of? The power to turn brother against brother until their deaths? Had it already been unleashed? If it had, it seemed all our hopes were dashed, but perhaps not…

Her eyes, they were the same soulless hollows that had plagued her that night not so long ago…And then, somehow, she was broken out of it. I had saved her once, I would do it again. Or she would kill me trying.

I stumbled backwards as a block with my knives faltered under her onslaught. Quick as the wind whistling in my ears she spun, her foot arcing to make my legs buckle beneath me, and then her blade drove itself into the stone where my chest had been a split second earlier. A slash again as I rose, and the sharp pain in my arm informed me of the fresh wound, blood splattering on the pristine white floor. I gritted my teeth through the discomfort and upped my game, managing to push her backwards, if only for a while. I didn't want to hurt her. But that was the problem, because she certainly didn't have a problem with hurting me.

I imagined Yuna's response to this train of thought, and reasoned that she would have found my concern more insulting than touching. She would tell me that she'd been too close to death too many times to be concerned about a few scratches and I would do best to think the same. With these thoughts in mind I had a new objective, besides simply surviving. Shock her out of it. Somehow. I did it before, I could think of something that would do it again. Sudden pain, perhaps that would do it? It was a course of action I had to take, if only to eliminate it. Because as I was I could think of no other.

She swung again, I caught her blade in the crevice between my knives and forced it upwards. As she took a step back I saw an opening and struck, a line of red blooming on her right shoulder before she parried me back. I saw the barest flinch in the rigidity of her stance, and in that I saw hope. But not for long.

"What are you waiting for? Kill him! Use the blade's power!" I heard him order, and obediently, she did.

"_Fainsen_" She whispered sharply in a voice that was hers but had nothing of her in it. Lucreccía followed her will, the gaps glowing with a soft blue light that intensified as she raised the blade and swifly cracked it down as it separated into the whip with the razor edge once more. And once more she advanced. I was out of options now. My knives could barely parry her attacks as it was, with the same instrument that I saw take down legions of Uruk-Hai against me, I stood little chance. I backed away as she came closer. He had a smile on his thin lips now.

She swept the sword across the floor, and I jumped to avoid it, barely ducking after in time to dodge the second attack overhead. Behind me was one of the many bandstands jotted around the place, and perhaps if she didn't shatter the pillars to shrapnel with her onslaught, I would have a few seconds to think of something more. Somehow I deflected an attack with one of my daggers and this bought me the time I needed to move back into the chamber. As I had hoped, the sword caught the pillars and their edges were dented, but they remained intact enough to protect me, at least for a time. After another attempt at a similar ranged attack she hissed "_Alye_" And the blade closed once more. She strode towards me purposefully, but still with nothing in her gaze. Something made her more powerful than she should have been. She was a very strong woman, and an incredibly skilled fighter, but something was adding to this. I should have been able to at least get a few attacks in, but nothing. It wasn't just my own irrepressible desire not to hurt her, but something else. Maybe it was the same unearthly power that tore this place apart so many thousands of years ago…

I inhaled sharply as a dagger went skidding across the floor, my left hand barely escaping a stab wound and instead getting a sizable chunk of flesh cut from the side. She raised the sword against me once more and this time I barely managed to parry her next attack with my right dagger. And then her bare leg came up and with impossible force booted me in the stomach and suddenly I was on the ground, winded. She was a demon as she fought, but now, that I stopped and _saw_ her as she paused, if only for a second, I remembered why I came.

"Yuna, stop!" I pleaded. I had no other option. Between my death or hers, my life would have no consideration. She raised her sword above me for the final blow. She could kill me for all I cared, but not before I saved her. I had to.

"I…I love you." It just came out, with barely any thought involved to consider the weight of the words, nor their implications. But something happened. She jolted. Within those swirling depths of nothingness a spark appeared. Like ink down a drain the blackness bled away to the brightest green beneath. If I had meant to shock her, on whatever level, that had done it. She blinked, and normality returned in its entirety.

A confused expression crossed her features, like she had just awoken from a particularly vivid and disturbing nightmare. She stared at me for what seemed like a lifetime but in reality was a few seconds and no more, her eyes uncovered and teeming with things unsaid. Then, as a sudden gust of wind wove through the pillars and hit her practically naked side, she glanced down at her attire. Her eyebrows clashed together in a mix of outrage and white-hot anger and she whirled around to face her captor, Lucreccía at her side practically buzzing with her energy as she trembled from her own fury. I imagined her teeth grit together as her face contorted, like it had done so many times before when we faced enemies that were no more than murderers, rapists and pillagers to us. Monsters. She took slow, deliberate steps towards him, fighting to keep control to stop herself from charging at him full speed.

"What!" He exclaimed, an unsteady note clear in his normally so calm voice. "What are you doing? Kill him!" As I shakily got to my feet, still reeling from her attack and the sudden turn of events, I noticed him backing away in, I assumed, fear. I didn't blame him. He had taken away her freedom, her will, and most importantly in her eyes, her dignity. It never occurred to me to move outside the battered stone shelter I stood in, for I could do very little to help her once she was set in her path. This was a mistake, I learnt, as he moved backwards even further to a shorter pillar. There was a noise of some indescribable quality, and suddenly it was like I saw the world outside the boundaries of the pillar through a strange, blue-hued film. I struck at it with my hand only to have it bounce back at me. Impenetrable. What sort of 'things' had this astounding race truly invented?

"There!" He shouted triumphantly, pointing in my direction. Yunalesca glanced back at me, my predicament, then back at him once more. "He is trapped, and one small movement from me will send him falling to his death!" To illustrate his point, the diameter of the floor beneath me began to appear and separate, just enough to fit a person through, but leaving enough space for me to stand without falling in. What was below was unknown. The sea, it must have been. An expanse of pale blue was all that greeted me as I looked. "Do as I say, or I swear I shall do it. I have come this far, do not think cold-blooded murder is above me." He threatened, with just a hint of desperation in his otherwise so calm voice.

"You disgust me!" Yunalesca spat out, speaking for the first time as herself. "You _Men_, all you search for is power beyond your control, nothing will ever suffice, and by the time you ever find something that does, you will be _dead_. Plagues upon the earth are those like you, Daeguerro! Another megalomaniac with more ambition than sense. I will stop you yet."

"Petty threats. You may think all you like, but at the moment it is I who hold the advantage."

"Kill him." She said indifferently, shrugging her shoulders. "And what will stop me from doing away with you after? My own life is of little importance."

"But you will not have me kill him. I know you and I have seen into your deepest thoughts, my Lady, and you would not have me kill him. Not even at the expense of your own life. That is why you wished to leave in the first place." He said almost tauntingly. I felt so useless. I had come to save her, and now the stakes had been turned and it was she doing the saving. I was the hindrance that held her back. I would make up for it somehow, though.

"How _dare_ you! Your presumption shall be the death of you, human!" She snarled, gripping her sword all the tighter and raising it up to point in his direction.

"And your anger shall be the death of the Prince if you do not pay heed to my demands." I could feel the frustration coming off her in waves. The last thing she wanted to do was to help this man, and yet she would.

"What do you want of me? Speak quickly."

"Your blood. It awakens the potential of the artefacts you bear. The jewelled glove, the amulet, and the blade you have carried all these years. These three together, awakened by one of your kind, will allow you to pass through the impermeable barrier erected around something of _great_ interest to me. Retrieve it."

"You! It was you who killed your master and stole from Arandir!" I shouted at him over the small distance. "It is you that attempts to control a power never meant to be controlled! If such an advanced people were destroyed by it, why not yourself? Do not be a fool!" Suddenly, everything the wizened, old, pure Avari had said came to life. This 'something' must never be allowed to surface again. Yuna turned back to me, and I could almost hear the calculations she made, and a plan forming in her mind.

"Silence, Elf, you know nothing of the artefact! But you will learn soon enough…Now, Yunalesca…"

"Fine. I shall do this for you. On one condition, you must not hurt him. Whatever happens, he goes free, and unharmed. You will _not_ raise your sword against him." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I wanted to shout out to her, tell her that my life was nothing next to Arda as we knew it. But I knew she would not listen. I could do nothing but trust in her.

"Agreed, but then I must ask you to give me your word that you will not harm or kill me. I must look out for my own interests, after all. And a heroine such as yourself cannot break her word." He said almost slyly.

"I give you my word of honour. Now tell me what it is you want me to do." Her voice was menacing. Anger was barely muffled by her own sensibility. I had to trust her. I had to make it up to her somehow.

"Over there." He pointed to a structure similar to that in which I was imprisoned, and I noticed that this one contained some sort of a pedestal. "It must be in there. No other place. Get it for me." He demanded again. She nodded, and set off towards it, giving me a look I recognised all too well as she did so. A complex plan was being carried out, and most of it was dubious as she wasn't sure it would work, but all she could do was hope, and she had to trust me to be ready. I had seen the same look many times before, communicating so much in a simple glance. But this time there was no trace of humour, nor anything else but her own rigid determination.

She came to the steps of the construction and paused for a second before steeling herself and stepping through the wall of light.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

I regarded the tiny object before me curiously. There in the centre of the pedestal, sitting prettily on a blue silk cushion, was a black sphere, just big enough for my hands to enclose, shiny, and yet somehow absorbing the light around it. Two parallel grooves ran around the circumference, indicating some way to open or activate it. Was this it? Was this tiny thing what had caused so much chaos? I had thought the same thing about the Ring of Power before I had seen it in action first-hand. But the evidence of the destruction this thing caused was all around. But I knew what I had to do. Whether or not my plan would work…now that was another issue.

It still seemed so wrong somehow. What was I doing here? What had just happened? I had worked out enough in a few seconds after awakening to surmise the situation, and I didn't like it. As for what he had said…well, I didn't need to think about that now. Maybe he didn't even say it. Whatever the case was, I couldn't think about it now. I couldn't be distracted. Was this my destiny finally? So I had a purpose other than to live and die? It was all so surreal. But if this was a dream, it was a painful one. And I never lost. Not even in dreams. I never went down, not without a fight. This fool. His biggest mistake was not to live out his ambitions, but to include me in them. No, wait, his biggest mistake was to include me in his ambitions wearing a napkin. My fists clenched. I would bring him down.

I picked up the object, which had a strange weight to it, and exited the small building, feeling strangely refreshed as I stepped through the invisible barrier from the confined chamber. I stared directly at Daeguerro as I walked towards him with slow, deliberate steps. I was barefoot. That was stupid. So was most if not all of what I was wearing, but that was another matter entirely, and another triviality which I had to stop focusing on.

His expression was calm, collected, almost passive to the situation. At least on the surface. I could see the slight tremor in his folded hands that told me he was deathly afraid of something untoward happening. But how could it? He held all the cards, it seemed. But I was anything but stupid. I quite literally held in my hands the greatest leverage of all. It was what he had been searching for all these years, what he had gone to so much trouble for. And if he thought I would roll over and give it to him just because he had Legolas at what he thought was his mercy…he was wrong.

I glanced from Daeguerro to Legolas, and to the latter I gave another meaningful look. I needed him to trust me and not question what I asked him to do. I needed him to figure out what I wanted him to do if I couldn't ask him. I needed him to trust me that I knew what I was doing. In return he gave a nod unperceivable to the human eye. Good. Now it was time to act.

I waited. I bided my time with my unhurried march towards the dark-haired villain in this picture. I waited 'til he glanced away from me, to the Prince who stood, defiant in his captivity, glaring right back at him. Legolas held his gaze for just long enough for me to make a break for it. I dashed towards the pagoda holding the Prince as fast as my unclothed legs would carry me, and prayed to whichever Vala I hadn't cursed something by that I was right.

By the time he had noticed my deviance and had time to do whatever it was that made the floor beneath open to the sea below, it was too late. I was right. I easily passed through the barrier by willing it with any power I had left for it to open, pushed Legolas to one side and to safety, shouting my orders as I passed, and plummeted through the chasm in the ground into the mass of clouds and beyond.

Sacrifices had to be made.

A.N. Sorry for the minimalist way we've explained everything. It will all become clear soon enough. And no, there isn't a glass bottom to the opening, nor is there a safety net. Happy cliff-hanging J.

Reviews:

Levanna: Sorry about the MSness . . This chapter reeks of MS, but hey, considering we wrote out the storyline when we were (more) ickle, it's not too bad… ;)

Illona: Sorry about sporadic updates and short chapters. Promise it won't last for long! And it'll be worth it:D

FFAMasquerade2005: Oh, don't worry, I have every intention of continuing with this fic til the end. J

Huggins Legacy: Sorry for the cliffie, but here's another. And thank you for mentioning the 2AM bit. Makes us feel loved

MoonSerenade: Cookie time.

Arcamenel: Yay! You're not dead! Thank you so much for the massive reviews. We expect another. Don't disappoint us :D

Raider-K: And it's not finished yet. Yuna's still got a little way to go before we're done with her…


	35. Fortune

"…_Stranger than your sympathy  
Take these things, so I don't feel  
Cut myself from the inside out  
And now my head's been filled with doubt  
We're taught to lead the life you choose  
All I wanted  
You know your love's run out on you  
All I wanted  
And you can't see when all your dreams aren't coming true  
Oh, yeah  
It's easy to forget, yeah  
When you choke on the regrets, yeah  
Who the hell did I think I was?   
And stranger than your sympathy  
And all these thoughts you stole from me  
And I'm not sure where I belong  
And no where's home and no more wrong…"_

_Goo_ _Goo Dolls - Sympathy_

Chapter 35: Fortune

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

I saw her fall and immediately my reflex was to jump after her, but that would accomplish nothing. My throat seized up as I realised the gravity of her actions. There was no way anyone would survive that fall. So…where did that leave things, then? She was gone. She had completely ignored her own safety and dived through the opening into nothingness. I wondered distantly why she hadn't thrown the object down, but realised the difficulty of this as the opening encompassed the entire floor of the structure, leaving nothing to hold on to and no escape for its prisoners inside the barriers. There was no way she could have moved me to safety as well as disposing of the orb and still manage to save herself.

So she chose me. How could she justify throwing away her own life?

I supposed I would never get to ask her. This thought terrified me far more than the fact that I was standing in an abandoned, floating city with an enraged man that seemed to know how to command the city itself. She…was gone. I realised that that meant I would never again see her satirical grin at the events unfolding around her, see her take down every threat around her within moments, see her rare but rewarding real smiles. And I'd never hear her response, either. He was still alive. But I would deal with that soon enough. Her orders, as she disappeared from my sight, were to 'destroy him'. Cleverly, she had never made him ask me to vow not to kill him. Not that it would stop me, really. He had killed her, and she would be avenged.

Not a second had passed since his scream of fury, wrenched from the bottom of his soul as he saw Yunalesca disappear with what he had been so close to obtaining. I turned to him, teeth gritted. It was his fault she was dead. It was his foolish ambition that had given her need to sacrifice herself. It was him. I drew my knives. I would kill him for what he did to her.

"You!" He yelled at me, his finger pointing accusingly in my direction, shaking slightly in his frenzy. "You made this happen! If it weren't for you I would already have succeeded!" It was strange seeing him like this, the cool exterior shattered. "My entire life's work dedicated to this day and you destroy it!" I took a step towards him, my own expression barely held in check, the grief became anger, and that was close to breaking through.

"If it weren't for _you_, she would still be alive! If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened, and she would never have come here!" I felt my teeth bare in rage, and no longer cared. "You _killed_ her."

"Enough words, _prince!_" He unsheathed his sword, a plain, one-handed thing, the edge of which glinted in the nearby sun with sharpness. He was a human, but he had also had a place in the final events of the Tournament. I knew not to take him lightly. He charged with an attack that I easily parried, his anger getting the better of his technique. I retaliated and he barely blocked, my other dagger missing his side by millimetres as he dodged. I attacked again, and he leapt back to avoid me, arcing his blade low to force me to move backwards. It seemed a strange technique at the time, but soon I realised his strategy.

Without warning he dropped his sword and reached for his left sleeve. I charged, but was too late. He raised his palm, on which there was an ornate clasp chained to rings, similar to Yuna's, containing a jewel of the brightest red. I saw the light before I felt the blinding agony shooting through my body, engulfing every muscle until it collected into the centre of my chest, where the burning heat of the pain signalled to me the fresh wound there. I fought against the instinct to sleep and forced my eyes open. I saw him leaning over me, his eyes cool and steeled as always, with just a hint of menace. He snarled at the fact that I was still conscious and backhanded me, the sharp metal biting into my skin. I was still wounded from the fight with Yunalesca, and this was not something I needed. I couldn't move, the most I could manage being a twitch of my fingers. I felt his hand pressed against my chest, and just as the searing fire spread through my limp figure, I gave in and saw only darkness.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

I plummeted, falling further and further, the flimsy fabric of my garments providing little resistance or protection from the wind. The object was still frozen to my hands, I realised. Without another thought I threw it out even further into the sea, the added momentum making it fall faster. I could only hope Legolas would succeed and live on. But the sea was fast approaching, and I had myself to think about now that the world was saved yet again by some unfortunate soul. But I was not a heroine. I never had been, I was just another trying to survive. And I was _not_ going to become a martyr. I wouldn't have minded finding a convenient cause to die for before I got into all of this, but now…there were too many unanswered questions, too much to live for. So, in retrospect, it was a great plan to throw myself over the side of a city suspended hundreds of leagues above the sea. Really great.

In my mind I bellowed out for the Eagles to come. I knew it was unlikely, but it was the only thing I could think of. The sea was coming closer. Somehow my hair had come unravelled and now flew out untamed behind me. I grasped Lucreccía sheathed at my side. At least if I would die looking like the obligatory scantily clad female in every tale, I would die with a sword in my hand.

I regarded her with fascination as I held her before me. She was no longer my mother's sword, a simple family heirloom. She was one of the three artefacts. One of the keys that unleashed the thing I had just disposed of in what seemed very practical at the time. Each with a different power of their very own, to aid in battle, or so I dimly remember him telling me at some point. The power to destroy, to protect, and to heal. I clutched the power of destruction in my elaborately decorated hands, that much was obvious to anyone that had seen her in battle. She had served me well, and worked at the will of my mind as I fought. I realised I had one scrap of hope left, and I must be wearing it.

I began fiddling with the contraption on my hand, willing it to do something, anything. Nothing happened. I could see every vibrant and deadly detail of the ocean as it came even closer. Hysterically, I grabbed the blue stone in the centre of the amulet, closing my eyes and praying to survive as the wind hissed violently against my skin, the sea engulfed me with a crash that took over my senses, and there was blackness.

I realised belatedly that this was because I had closed my eyes.

But wait. I was still thinking. This was a start. But I wasn't underwater. That was strange. I wasn't moving, either, just sort of…hovering. At least that's what it felt like. I didn't want to open my eyes, afraid of what they might confirm, but forced them to comply anyway.

I _was_, in fact, underwater, sinking steadily downwards, which I found petrifying. I reached out to the sun breaking through the water above and propelled myself upwards. But nothing happened. I glanced downwards and saw my amulet glowing a blinding white. It was then I realised that I was somehow shielded, as if I were behind a pane of glass. The water stayed at all times at least a foot from my body suspended behind a thin blue film of light, resulting in no harm coming to me from the shattering impact. I didn't even feel it. The power of protection radiated from my chest. But if I couldn't touch the water, which the amulet apparently thought to be harmful, I couldn't break the surface. I tapped it a few times, then shook it back and forth, finally willing it with all my power to stop.

…And it did. The water rushed into the empty space, nearly choking me with the shock. Getting over my initial surprise, I clawed my way to the surface, gasping for breath as I felt the wind tearing at my saturated hair again. I saw the city far above, but could make out nothing else. The fall didn't kill me, but the ocean just might. I searched over the rough waves for land, all the time trying to stay afloat.

I couldn't see anything, a heavy coat of mist hung over the distance. Once more in my mind I called out to them for help. And I thanked any Valar that still cared when I opened my eyes and saw they had listened. One of the great beasts approached, skimming the tops of waves as it beat its powerful wings. As it approached it came lower, circling around my bobbing figure. I reached up and hauled myself onto its back, using all the strength left in me to cling on and beg for it to bear me once more as it began an almost vertical climb to the city, thanking whoever was listening once again that I was alive.

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"Will you…wait for me?" I asked, unsure. The creature regarded me curiously for a moment before it lowered its large head in what I assumed was agreement. I nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you…I…won't take long."

I hurried down the path leading to the site of the confrontation, keeping in my mind what I hoped to be true, but all the same haunted by a vision of the plan reversed. I was alive, after all. The fates had determined I should, by their grace, live to see another sunrise. But whether the rest of my plan should all go like clockwork, that was something else altogether.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a figure slumped by the path. Legolas. After a moment's hesitation I ran towards him, gaining speed as I came closer and saw his wounds. I knelt by his prone form, inspecting the probably mortal injuries that made him look like he had been bludgeoned by the club of a cave troll. His flesh had been seared, skin ripped open, blood seeping into his clothes at a frightening rate. I had to do something.

My hands hovered over the wounds uncertainly, not wanting to touch them but at the same time wishing more than anything for them to heal, and for him to live as I did. I had done it before, saved the lives of men by binding their wounds in the heat of battle. And now the only sound was the howling of the wind in my ears and the inexpressibly loud pounding of my own blood, a rhythm that grew faster and faster still as my breathing, heavy and far too thunderous to be my own, matched it. His chest rose and fell with shadow, raspy breaths. I had to do something, but what could I do? The black and murky red chaos that had become of his chest rendered me motionless.

He was close to death. I couldn't let him go. A tear trickled down my cheek which I wouldn't have minded him seeing if it meant he would open his eyes and live.

He had to heal somehow, but no one I knew of had the skill to do so. What had caused such a thing? It mattered not, only if it killed him. I still couldn't bring myself to touch the gaping mass of blood and torn clothing on his chest. Like a child locked in prayer, my eyes screwed shut as the tears leaked out and my hands locked in their hovering over his torso as a scream that existed in my mind alone flew to the heavens and commanded that his wounds should heal.

I noticed something in my peripheral vision but couldn't tear myself from the site of his face, twisted up in pain, scratched and bleeding. Another. And another. I glanced down to my hands and noticed the stones on the contraption adorning my wrist, fingers and palm whirring into life with a cerulean light. I was too surprised to do anything but watch as they lit up together and began to cast a soft glow onto his chest. To my amazement and incredulity, his skin began to knit back together, the blood stopping escaping from his wound as it ceased to exist. And in a matter of seconds, he was normal. His breathing deepened and steadied. The…thing…whatever it was, stopped glowing, and was the same again.

I marvelled at the peculiarity of what had just occurred. Fate was a terrible and beautiful thing. He was alive. We both were. I realised that there was an astonished smile on my face. I removed it quickly and focused. Legolas was here, and he was safe enough. So where was Daeguerro? He can't have got far, and there weren't many places for him to hide in. Except…

I glanced up to the temple. He had to be in there somewhere. I stood purposefully, unsheathing Lucreccía, and advanced towards the collection of massive pillars before me, murder on my face and revenge in my eyes. I was silhouetted in the entrance, and must have been quite a sight as he looked up to me. By his side was a bag filled with what I assumed was the loot from the temple. I suppose he figured that if he didn't leave powerful he'd at least leave rich. But he stopped when he saw me. I caught a glance at his face, a mask of terror for a split second before it melted into anger. He began to run towards me, his hand outstretched with some sort of device attached to it. I wasn't taking any chances. Lucreccía opened at my will, and I thrust it forward, the chevrons rippling out in a dead straight line that eventually ended up buried somewhere in his abdomen. He stopped in shock, crying out in pain, falling backwards as he clutched the wound. I cracked the sword down and as it came back up it returned to its original shape as I advanced on him. Placing the blade to his neck I stood on his wrist to immobilise the device, my bare toes digging sharply into his veins.

"Now, then," I began. "That wasn't enough to kill you, but let me tell you now that I am _not _above that. Especially since you broke our little agreement. Why don't you start by explaining to me just what the _hell_ you did to him?" I pressed the blade closer.

"I…" he choked, "I was attacked. I retaliated."

"Of course you were, but if you recall you were instructed not to harm him in any way. It was only I that wasn't to kill you, not him. He could do what he wished. But since you broke that, I see no reason for me not to break my word and be finished with you." I made a tiny yet precise cut through the skin of his neck for emphasis, a small trail of blood winding down to the stone floor.

"You will not kill me. I know too much that you want to know yourself." He rasped, still defiant in the face of death. But I considered his offer. There was a lot that I wanted to know, that much was true…and he seemed as good a source as any.

"Alright, then." I consented. "Answer my questions and I may just let you live. And I'm a heroine, remember? Word of honour and all that." He nodded mutely. He didn't have much of a choice, really. I began my interrogation.

"You can control that thing on your hand. And some other things in this city, but you are not of our blood. How?"

"Do you honestly think the Avari made everything they created blood-bound? It is only their most important creations such as your sword there and the other artefacts. Things like that. It is a lot harder for someone else to control the city and its contents, but it is possible, and I have spent my life studying how."

"Fair enough. What the hell am I wearing?" He chuckled.

"The ensemble of a high priestess. The Avari had less of a grasp on modesty as many others. So close to the sun can make this place rather hot in the summer, so I'm told. As for why, it was a test. I had to make sure you were completely under my control. After all, even if you were doing a superb job of acting, I can't imagine any circumstances in which you would agree to wear such a thing."

"True, I suppose. Doesn't excuse you, though. Now tell me, what is it that the orb does? Why did you want it so badly?"

"The orb…it worked too quickly to earn even a name. The power it is enchanted with is almost limitless. Using it I could enthral nations of people or creatures to do my bidding. Knowing nothing but my wishes, and their own desire to carry them out. It is a thing of unimaginable value and dominance. With it I could have succeeded in ruling over the entirety of Arda and beyond. But no chance of that now, thanks to you…" his voice wavered as he ended, anger seeping back in.

"That's correct, but I don't approve of your tone." I dug the sword in ever so slightly deeper. "You were a fool to think for a second that you would succeed. More ambition than sense. But moving on, if you needed the orb to do that, how were you able to control me? How is it you, a human, were able to make me nothing more than a slave?" I reigned in my vexation at this and awaited his response.

"I lived and studied under one and the same that helped to enchant the thing in the first place. She taught me the principles of what they had done, wishing for them to be forgotten but all the same not wanting the knowledge of the past to be lost. From her teachings I learnt how to control one of your kind, make them senseless killers if I wished, or emotionless thralls, as you were. But my enchantments were not strong enough to hold you. You were able to break free again, much to my dismay."

"Wait, _again_?" Suddenly it dawned on me, and things began to make a lot more sense. "It was you…that night in the palace. It was you. You were the one that sent me those dreams, that made me leave in the first place. You…you even sent those Orcs to burn the Entwood, didn't you?"

"Of course it was. I tried to capture you, but you resisted that, then I had to follow you to the Greenwood, and you know the rest. How else would I get you to leave? Your twisted sense of responsibility towards your 'home' wouldn't let you leave, but once you did, that was nothing next to what kept you in Eryn Lasgalen. I had to lure you out, somehow. And it seemed to work."

"You…you dare…" I steadied myself, closing my eyes so I didn't have to see the infuriating air of superiority in his glare. "Let me straighten this out. You force me to leave my home, follow me to another, assault my dreams night after night, almost get me killed if it were not for the Prince, then you approach me with the pretence of _helping_ me only to drag me here to fulfil your own _sick_ desires? And then you have the absolute _nerve_ to accuse _me _of messing things up?" I cut into his neck again. "Give me one reason, just one reason." I was absolutely livid. And it didn't really matter what he said.

"You…you promised! You said…" He spluttered, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, narrowly avoiding the point of my sword.

"Oh, what? I can't kill you because I'm supposed to be '_good_', and the heroines always show mercy? Well let me tell you something: I said I '_may' _not kill you, I never said I really _was_ a heroine, and who's going to know or care if I go back on my word? You wouldn't think twice before killing me, even killing him, so why should I be concerned about your life?" I wasn't a merciful being by nature. And this one had caused more than his fair share of problems. His pitiful existence offended me and would do so no longer.

"But..you…!" Were the last words that escaped his mouth before my blade was thrust through his neck. His back arched suddenly and a final gasp escaped his lips before he breathed no more. With that done, thoughtfully I eyed the sack of treasures next to him. I retrieved my sword and re-sheathed it before having a quick rifle through the contents, conscious of Legolas outside, as well as the eagle. A few artefacts, jewels, gold, mythril, things of purely material value. I ignored them. I had enough rich friends. I hurried back outside, cursing Legolas for his weight as I half-carried, half-dragged him to the waiting transportation.

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

My eyes were closed. That was the first thing I noticed as I became conscious. Why was I sleeping with my eyes closed? In fact, why was I sleeping at all? We had to find Yuna, she could be anywhere, and I didn't have time to sleep, I…

Memories came in flashes. The sight of her barely clothed walking with _him_ beside her. Her charging towards me with nothing in her expression. My proclamation as the light flooded back into her eyes and she awakened. The half-turn she made, her vision clashing with mine, as she disappeared through the floor, her gaze full of sorrow. And then he was over me, and the blackness exploded over my recollection, the pain of the wound returning for a moment before I realised…it wasn't there. And I was in a bed. And it was day, but a thin film of material held back the light. And as my breathing slowed I realised the sound no longer corresponded to the rise and fall of my chest. There was someone else.

If I was in any danger, they'd have killed me by now, I decided. I opened my eyes and was momentarily blinded by the light, but regained my vision quickly. The light breathing came from my right and I glanced to the side of what was indeed a large mahogany bed to see a figure curled up in a matching armchair. Her silver hair was in a loose braid, tendrils flying out the side to frame her face, which rested in the fold of one arm as she slept. Her dark lashes swept over bronzed cheeks, half covered by the hair falling over. But…I saw her fall. I saw her disappear under the blanket of clouds. There was no way she could have survived that. No way. But somehow I didn't care how. She was alive. The knowledge lifted my spirits more than I could say. The sight of her there, sleeping serenely as if she didn't have one of the deadliest hand-held weapons known to man nestled under her other arm…it made me want to smile in a way I hadn't done since I was barely an adolescent. What was she doing to me?

She stirred in her sleep, her nose wrinkling in a fashion that she'd probably hate me to see. Seeing her like this, so unguarded, unworried, uncaring, it seemed almost indecent, but at the same time I could barely take my eyes away. A more rebellious and notably suicidal part of me noticed with some sadness that she had swapped her previous outfit for something loser and more practical. Her pointed ears poked out from in between two chunks of hair, her obvious Elvish heritage anything but apparent in the way she was nestled like a child in the cushions of the armchair. She was a living contradiction. She could inspire fear into the hearts of the most hideous monsters, but I had seen the smallest child clinging to her for safety. She hated being recognised under her hood, yet she would put on a spectacle for thousands of adoring fans. She would be frosty and callous, insisting that she was using me, and yet she was here now, sleeping by the side of my bed.

I slid out of the covers, noticing that someone somewhere along the line had changed my clothes from my battered tunic into a pair of loose breeches, which I suppose I was grateful for. As I stood, I realised that my wounds were, in fact, completely gone. I wasn't even wearing a bandage. And there didn't seem to be any scar. How long was I out for? I knelt down next to her, my fingers brushing a few stands from her face. I wanted to wake her up, if only to prove she was really there and alive, but at the same time I wouldn't be opposed to watching her breathing softly for a while longer. Unfortunately, she had other plans. Her eyes flickered open, confusion evident on her face even before her gaze met mine. For an instant, her expression began to melt into something resembling relief, but it was quickly subdued, surprised annoyance choosing instead to take its place as she rubbed the sand from her eyes.

"Why did you wake me up? I was dreaming. And who said you were allowed to get out of bed? Not that I care about your horrific injuries, of course, it's your own fault for coming gallivanting after me like that." She said, sounding for all her years like a scolding mother. It was far from the warm welcome I envisioned, but close to what I had expected.

"I'm fine. There's no need for me to be in bed. Whatever happened, I'm completely healed." I said, gesturing to the completely mended patch of skin. Her lips froze in the middle of conjugating. I remembered the night she left with photographic detail. "And it was hardly my fault for following you. Would you have expected otherwise?" She looked towards the floor for a moment. I sat on the bed in front of her, awaiting a response.

"I suppose not, though I'd hoped you wouldn't have." She brushed the hair from her eyes irritably, a gesture I'd come to recognise all too well. "It's a long story, and we have an even longer journey after we leave this place, so we can talk about it later if you wish." This place? That was a point, where were we? The furniture didn't look to be of Elven craftsmanship, so we were in a Human city? But where?

"Dol Amroth." Yuna said, apparently guessing my thoughts. "You've only been asleep for two days, although that was enough to make the others near hysterical, particularly Firowen, though he mentioned that his concern was more to the point of your dear sister hating him for letting you die. Touching."

As if on cue, I heard the door creak open and a blond head that resembled my own far too much poked through, eyes widening as he caught sight of me. He grinned, walking towards the two of us.

"Sorry to break you two lovebirds up, just checking that you're alive after all. There was chaos when she brought you back unconscious. Especially with what she was wear— " He was cut off as Yuna's elbow collided with his stomach.

"Well Arandir liked it, anyway." She interjected. "Said it reminded him of a time before it all happened." We would definitely talk about it later.

"Moving on," Firowen began again, still sounding a little winded, "word has reached the White City of our stay here, and our presence has been requested, nay, demanded, by King Elessar." A smile crossed my face. It seemed like too long since I'd seen Aragorn. "I'm not entirely sure how he knew we were here, but a message was sent asking whether or not our stay was prolonged or if we had any pressing business to attend to."

"We stay here at our leisure, I understand." Yuna answered. "I am wary as to what it is he wishes us there for, though."

"Can't an old friend ask for a visit?" I said, the corner of my mouth quirking upwards.

"Alright, we'll go if you want." She conceded. "Not that I must necessarily travel with you. It's just more convenient for me this way." She was too quick to correct herself. My heart sank ever so slightly. Why did she have to leave? But I nodded anyway. I had just got her back, and I wasn't going to lose her again by crowding her with questions and demands. I didn't know where these thoughts came from. I didn't know why it was that everything she did seemed to become endearing or strangely provocative. I didn't know, but I didn't care either.

"We'll leave whenever we are ready. Firowen, if you could tell the messenger…"

"Already done, my Prince." He said with mock dutifulness. "Yunalesca filled us in on the details as to what happened, with the help of Arandir, and we decided there was no further hurry for us to go anywhere. Cer would beg to differ, what with Jen and all, but a few more days, weeks, however long we wish, won't really hurt." I had to agree. What awaited me back in Eryn Lasgalen was a flurry of airy not-quite maidens and stick-thin daughters of the most obscure nobles with elbows like razor blades all vying for the position of Princess and future Queen. It was not a pleasant prospect. After the last few conscious hours I did not feel like making the long journey home just yet. Perhaps we would travel to Minas Tirith soon enough, but no further for now. The human city had always seemed to relax me. When it wasn't under siege, of course. "I'll leave you two alone." He said, with a grin that promised an ulterior motive Luckily, Yuna didn't see or even appear to hear him. Her gaze was focussed on her nails, picking irritably at the ones broken, no doubt by the weeks' events. She was thinking about something. Something which I knew she had no intention of sharing with me. Again, I wondered if she'd heard what I said before…

"Why did you come after me?" She asked the second the door clicked shut. "My horse was gone, my belongings were gone, what was the possibility that I'd been kidnapped or something?" The demanding note in her voice was forced. She was confused, but didn't want to show it.

"Because. You never said goodbye." It was true. Had she said goodbye, I probably would have tried to stop her from going, but if she went anyway, I would have left her alone. Maybe. I was not sure I would have been able to. She smirked, probably remembering the words that passed between us that night.

"I said 'goodnight', wasn't that enough?" I shook my head.

"I figured that even if you'd left of your own accord and headed back to Fangorn, when I found you you'd at least tell me the _real_ reason you left."

"So when you found me with someone else, you never for a second thought I'd left of my own accord?" Her eyes crinkled with humourless irony. And the truth was no, I hadn't. For all my years, I'd jumped to the first conclusion I arrived at. I hardly deserved to know. "Legolas, why did you come after me?"

"Why did you leave?" We asked our respective questions just as defiantly. I knew we would never get those answers out of the other. Not for now.

"Why did you risk your life for mine?"

"Why was your life at risk at all?"

"One man's greed and lust for power. With the artefact he made me fetch for him he could have controlled the minds of thousands, rule the entirety of Arda, if he wished."

"What? And this was in the city? Why was such a thing ever created? Your race…they did not seem like warlords…what would be the point in developing such weaponry?"

"Simple. Their thirst for knowledge. They enchanted everything they could, making things faster, better, stronger, whatever they wanted. When they came upon an enchantment so powerful, they couldn't resist exploring, prodding further. And it was their destruction."

"He told you this?"

"Daeguerro? No, it was Arandir, the pure-blooded Avari, or so he says. He gave me a brief history of our people shortly after I landed on his windowsill. Pretty comprehensive. He is not here now, though. Once I told him of what had transpired, he wished to return. He knew the artefact was lost forever, so there was little danger in him going back. He said he wanted to make peace with himself. To find some sort of solace. He left it too quickly to really say goodbye."

"Yuna…what happened to the city? Why did they have to leave? Why did none of them come back?"

"It was that…thing. The second they'd made it they wanted to test it. They didn't know the full extent of what it could do. Soon enough, almost everyone in the place was enslaved, needing only to stop fighting it for a split second to be overcome. No one was controlling it, it was controlling them. Somehow, there were five of them still thinking, most of whom had developed it initially and knew the ideas behind it. One of them managed to secure it within the same structure I retrieved it from. The fields stopped the thing's reach, but he was still subjected to it, and he was one of the last to die as he frenzied. The only way into the structure was with the three keys, which they took with them. My sword, the amulet, and that glove…thing…whatever it was, it saved your life. The last four called for salvation from the eagles, to take them away. Only three made it down, the last fought off the crazed citizens that were too far gone to ever return. Imagine, slaughtering those that just a few hours before had been brothers, sisters, friends, neighbours, good people. Even if he'd survived, would he have wanted to continue living, I wonder?"

"Arandir, Daeguerro's teacher, and your grandmother?"

"They survived, yes. None of them wished for anything like it to happen again, so they agreed not to pass on the secrets of the city, hoping for it to be lost forever. As well as that, never to reproduce, so the bloodlines might be ended with their deaths. But of course, this wasn't the case. Secrets were told, children were born, and here I am." She spread her arms to demonstrate her own existence, occurring through the smallest chance. I smiled faintly, the gravity of what had happened barely sinking in. And then it hit me. She was still alive.

"Yuna, I saw you fall…" I left the question unasked, but she understood, and brought me up to date with the events up to my waking up. The miraculous circumstances that amounted to her survival awed me. I realised how easily she could have died. Again I felt the slightest anger at her complete disregard for her own safety. But I knew that someone like her would never be chastised about it. When questioned, her excuse for sleeping in the chair was that I took up the bed, and she wouldn't want any intruders to see anything that wasn't there. And her excuse for sleeping in my room at all was simply 'I was tired,' before she rose and left, the door swinging closed even as she was halfway down the hall.

A.N. Rai: Sorry for hideous lack of updates. Internet's been dead for past month and a bit. Being cut off from society is not a happy thing. Not my only excuse, but it's good enough for now. Sorry for the bittiness of this chapter, but needed to wrap this portion of the plot up nicely. Ok, not so nicely. Hope to have next chapter done as soon as I can, but the idea of spare time these days seems a bit of a foreign concept. Anyway, Merry Christmas and a happy New Year full of failed diets and unhealthy alcohol consumption.

Oh, oh yes. I have finally managed to produce something that looks even remotely like the Yuna in my mind. Two very quick sketches that probably won't let me show. Remove the , see if that works. Bastards. First is Yuna in what Miss World would call Casual wear. A softer side, I guess. ( one is the freakish Priestess outfit. Every story needs one mind-bogglingly scantily clad female. With huge knockers, yes, that is part of the character description. And ignore the face, that was an afterthought. ( 


	36. Surrender

A.N., ok, apparently just hates web addresses. Let's try again: www (dot) geocities (dot) com /fuschiafairytale/images/CGs/sketches/yuna2.jpg And again, www (dot) geocities (dot) com/fuschiafairytale/images/CGs/sketches/yuna3.jpg These are just rough sketches, but they just give an idea. Expect more soon :D.

'…_I had no choice but to hear you,_

_You've stated your case time and again,_

_I've thought about it,_

_You treat me like I'm a princess,_

_I'm not used to lying in bed,_

_You ask how my day was,_

_You've already won me over,_

_In spite of me,_

_And don't be surprised if I fall,_

_Head over feet,_

_And don't be surprised if I love you,_

_For all that you are,_

_I couldn't help it,_

_It's all your fault…'_

'_You've Already Won Me Over' – Alanis Morissette_

Chapter 36: Surrender

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

The blinding white of Minas Tirith grew closer as we galloped ever nearer. Barely a few days had passed since I had awakened before we were on our way again, saying our goodbyes to Imrahil and Arandir, thanking them for their help. So much had happened in the past week. She was back, it didn't matter for how long, and there was no pressing threat to the continued existence of Arda. Everything was the same again, and yet everything had somehow changed. And not all of it for the better.

The fate of the world around us had hung in the balance, and barely a handful were aware of it. But that was often the way with the true heroes. Or heroines, as the case may be. Of course she would have none of it. As she said, were it up to her she would never have gone. The only reason she did what she did was to fulfil some glorious plan the Valar had in store for her in the hopes that she die with a purpose. But she also commented that it can't have been all that glorious, as she was still alive.

I glanced to my left. She was there, just as she had been a few minutes ago, her stallion's stride matching that of Arod, her gaze clear and focussed on the walls before her. The wind played with the strands of hair that had worked themselves free of her tight, practical braid, the one she always wore while riding or fighting, which was, ironically, the way she spent a perplexing amount of her time. To the left of her, Cer rode, as silent and focused as ever. To my right was Firowen, who rode slightly ahead of the twins, whose horses competed for position playfully.

The gates loomed above us as we slowed to a trot. The City's strange layout was one I was still vaguely familiar with. At least, I knew the route to the palatial structure at its summit well enough. As we wound through the cobbled streets, we endured the usual reception. People stared, some pointed, others gave us no notice. Children commented loudly and unashamedly at the strange pointy-eared people, though the brighter realised we were of Elven descent. Apparently, Queen Arwen didn't walk around the city too often. Firowen rode in front of us, Cer at his side, as he smiled politely at the citizens. I realised the horse that was flanking mine was Yuna's. He clearly enjoyed the attention, and rolled his head majestically so his mane swung back in what would have been a shiny curtain of silver had he not been travelling for a few days. I saw the barest hint of a smirk on Yuna's face, which, I belatedly realised, was half covered by her blue-grey hood. Did she still hate to be recognised? I decided to add it to the list of questions I wanted to ask her once I was absolutely sure she wasn't about to bite my head off at the slightest inquiry into her life.

So we were back at this point again. Sardonic yet witty comments and playful insults thrown at each other, the occasional glance filled with, of course, pure indifference. Me not knowing where on Arda in her eyes I stood, and neither of us having the courage or foolery to ask. We were both too old for this, but perhaps that was the problem. Both too proud, though I would never admit that to her, and I know she would not to me. Of all the women, in all of Arda…

We dismounted at the bidding of a citadel stablehand, Yuna giving a firm look and command of '_be good_' to Amroth. It drew more than a few stares, but she didn't notice, or if she did then she didn't seem to care. She never really did.

---------------------------------------------End Interlude-------------------------------------------

The King's house had changed more than I'd believed possible in the few years I'd been away. Well, ten or so. The Steward Denethor hadn't been the homiest of people, and the coldness of the plain, ashen marble had penetrated to the very soul of every servant that walked the place with expressions of impending doom at every corner. Memories flooded back as we approached the great hall that seated Aragorn and his Queen. The last time I'd been here was a journey of necessity that concluded as a short social visit to the now Prince of Ithilien. Then, the place was swathed in white and lifeless shades of grey as the creature that haunted it skulked around what was left of his country. Now, a new life had entered these halls. The servant that walked a few paces before us to guide the way performed his task with renewed vigour. Even the candles fastened to the walls blazed with a new energy. I felt a smile tug at my lips.

"Eager to see the King Elessar, Yunalesca?" Celoril had appeared at my side with barely a sound. Damn Elves. I nodded my response.

"It has been too long, I think. Our last parting was of the few favourable between us. Old grudges are not so easily put to rest, but this is. A stupid quarrel between children. I could not be happier for his success."

"And…the Queen Undómiel?" There was a hint of laughter in his tone that I neither appreciated nor was surprised by. I couldn't stop my smile widening with a twist of irony.

"Anyone that claims to be the epitome of beauty in physical form must have some other hideous flaw. Like an atrocious singing voice, for instance. Maybe she has some secret chains and manacle perversion." Satisfied that I had him on the verge of spluttering with what was either laughter or shock, I added: "Perhaps she's just simply no good in bed. Pretty women never are." A snort from behind us notified me to the fact that Nólad had been listening. Celoril had no chance to respond, however. We were there.

The throne loomed before us, but not in the same way it once had. Now, the room was filled with the decadence that only an Elven mind could conjure up. The gleam and majesty that occupied the hall radiated from somewhere around the couple seated at the end of the room. The Queen sat regally with her hands in her lap, her face a vision of serene magnificence as always. Aragorn rose as we approached, his hair looking far too well taken care of for my liking, a smile firmly on his face. Legolas was flanked by Firowen and Cer a way behind, with the Twins and myself trailing behind like naughty children. The Prince and King embraced as brothers, then greeted each of us in turn until he came to me.

"Yuna." A smile beamed at me that was so genuine it erased any bitterness I had buried for him. "Your presence is unexpected, yet in no way unwelcome. I did not realise you travelled with Legolas." There was a hint of suggestion in his voice. My eyebrows narrowed just enough for the smile to become a rakish grin.

"Well, I have to eat sometimes, you know." I said in a voice I half hoped only he could hear. He laughed in a way I had not seen in too many years.

"Of course, of course. Anyway, I am sure you are all tired from the journey. I will not keep you here longer than is necessary. He gestured towards a pair of chambermaids huddled by the door. It was a mystery to me how chambermaids always appeared to huddle, even if there was only one, but I dismissed it as one of the many mysteries of the universe that I didn't care about. "Please."

"A moment, Elessar," said Legolas in a jovial tone, "Won't you tell us why we have been so particularly summoned here?" A corner of Aragorn's mouth curved upwards in a gesture of secrecy.

"Oh, certainly. In due time, of course. Get settled in first. I trust you will stay no less than…say a week?" Ooh, goody, a holiday in the middle of the largest human city in Arda with Him thrown in just to make it even more enjoyable. I wanted to get to my allocated quarters and collapse somewhere. Preferably somewhere soft. There was a general murmur of conformity from the small collection of Elves in front of me before Legolas agreed and we were led away by the forever bobbing chambermaids.

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As I lay on the impossibly spongy eiderdown that gave in like a pond, it occurred to me that I still had not returned to Entwood. And that I was still here. With Him. For no apparent reason other than I didn't really want to leave. Something inside me strained behind a floodgate, but I restrained it still. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it was that threatened to take me over. I wasn't sure I could handle it. What a stupid, stupid thought. Me, a warrior that had seen thousands to their deaths, afraid of something as harmless as that. But of course, a warrior was the only identity I had. Once I gave up the part of me that was a fighter until the end, the part that never gave up and always found some way to win…what was I?

Aragorn was not yet a hundred and yet had his destiny laid out for him like a road paved with torches, and it was that path he walked. It was fine for some. I had tried for so long to find a purpose to my seemingly endless existence, and I had not yet succeeded. I couldn't just be alive to carry on fighting; it didn't make sense when there wasn't a war. Alright, yes, it was true that I'd just foiled one of the many attempts to enslave and probably destroy the known world, but nowadays, who hadn't? There had to be something more. Something bigger than what was already behind me.

Three thousand years, and I hadn't yet figured it out. Truly, a brilliant and fulfilling life I had led…

The thought was laughable. But I realised, with new and probably foolish conviction, that I was still alive, and, thus, still had a chance. I would find something. Something that gave me a purpose, a reason to stay on this earth.

It occurred to me that I was getting far, far too old for this. I should be living out my final years in the Grey Havens by now, finding solace in the tranquillity there like so many before me. It was time to let go. A year, I decided finally, then I would leave. If the Valar decided to hurl something in front of my path before then, that was their choice. If not, I would go, and if I was lucky I would fade away into stories and legend like so many others.

I laughed, humourlessly and silently. A year. It was barely enough time to say goodbye to the hundreds of contacts I'd accumulated. No matter. I had little else to lose. I'd kept my dignity intact for so many years, and now that was all but gone too. I suppose it was his fault, but that was just the indignant old woman inside me insisting I was blameless. I was the one that let my guard down, and now here I was, trailing after a man like a lost puppy, and I was sure he knew it. Well, no longer. It would be rude of me to leave before we'd even found out why we were here, but it was the only time I could slip away quietly.

I gathered up the sparse belongings I carried and made for the door. As I passed what was probably a desk, I considered leaving a note of some kind. But no, that was too common. Too sentimental. He'd figure things out eventually. And hopefully this time he'd figure out that he wasn't to follow me. My eyes closed in thought. But he would anyway. The stubbornness of that elf rivalled my own. But what was he looking for? He'd had his fun already. He knew I had come to genuinely…care for him. I suppose so, anyway. He was probably laughing at how girlish and childlike I'd been. Falling for a few choice words and stolen kisses. It was pretty pathetic, I had to admit. But the way he'd captivated me, it was so…so _right_. Or so I had thought. There was no war, and so less chance of him being snatched away from me by death, but I knew somehow that he would never be mine to begin with. He was toying with me. I gritted my teeth. He didn't deserve a goodbye.

"Again?" Those two syllables, spoken so calmly and soothingly, divided the turbulent river of my fate in two distinct paths. On the path where there was nothing but silence, I opened my eyes, sighed and left, the stableboy the only witness to my departure. I disappeared, and if he followed me, he never found me. In this life, however, I jerked my eyes open and dropped the makeshift bag of my possessions on the wooden floor. He was there, looking as collected as ever, though I realised later the turmoil that danced behind his eyes.

"I…what do you mean?" I was suddenly flustered. I hated him more for doing this to me.

"You're leaving. Again. Why?" Why? Why couldn't he just stay out of it all?

"I'm not leaving. I've just not unpacked yet." It was a terrible, terrible lie, but he went along with it.

"Not unpacked yet?" There was a playful smirk that insinuated itself into his voice. "We've been here a good while already, Yuna."

"Yes, well…I've been tired lately. Obviously staying at Eryn Lasgalen has made me lazy. And you're forgetting that we of mortal blood like to sleep occasionally." He let out a chuckle, and in my mind he remembered my closing comment the last time we had talked. I felt the heat rising to my neck as the embarrassment at being caught out surfaced.

"Indeed? Well now is a chance to rest, we have leave to remain as long as we wish. And there is no real hurry to get back to Eryn Lasgalen, so we may as well make use of the invitation." I couldn't stop myself. I had to say it.

"We? I am here because it has been more convenient to travel with you. It doesn't mean I am obliged to remain with you, let alone return with you." I tried to sound as indifferent as I could so he wouldn't see. His eyes turned to a spot just to the right of my feet.

"Be that as it may, Elessar would be crushed to learn that you won't be attending the event being planned." My face fell. Event? These people were obsessed with parties and celebrations and any excuse to get the man in a dress and pretend she's a queen.

"What event?" My voice must have been tinged with desperation and anxiety, for he looked at me once more, with a smile in his eyes.

"I'd love to tell you, but if you're going to leave there wouldn't be much point, would there?"

"I'm not going to leave."

"Really?" I remained resolute. "Yuna, you're an amazing fighter, a brilliant conversationalist, but a terrible liar. Please, if it's the last thing you say to me, make it the truth." He was right. He was always right.

"What have I to stay for? The sights and smells of this bleached city? The inevitable parade of women with their bosoms pushed to the ceilings and half a whale skeleton holding together their dresses? Or what about the thrilling company?" I paused. He didn't deserve a goodbye, but perhaps he deserved the truth. "Or what about you? Shall I stay for you? If so, give me a reason, please, anything. Give me something to tell me that I'm more than a joke or a private conquest to you, because I'm just dying, _dying_ to humiliate myself even more." The exchange had gone from jovial to bitter in a matter of moments. Before I had a chance to react, my face was cupped in his hands and his lips pressed against mine, tasting of desperation and passion and foolishness.

All at once I had pushed him back, my teeth bared in anger at him for his presumptuousness and gall, and myself for wanting more. "What was _that_?" I barked. "You think you can just do what you like with me and have me just accept it? I went along with you because it was more convenient for me, and I had fun knowing _I_ was kissing the prince when most dreamt of eye contact! I didn't care that you were using me, it was even pretty interesting having you pretend you cared for me as more than some kind of temporary appeasement, but now it's getting old. I told you the truth. Yes, I _am_ leaving, and this time you won't follow me. If you want me to stay enough, give me a reason, but I tell you it had better be a good one because I'm all out of patience." Alright, so it wasn't entirely the truth, but he had lied to me for longer than I had lied to him. I just wanted to know the reality of things. If he felt as I knew he did, I could leave. But I had to know for sure.

"_Temporary?_ You think I see you as a plaything?" Either he had far too much practice at this sort of thing, or that was genuine bewilderment I saw. And sorrow, mingled with something I'd never seen before. "Yuna…I…if I have made you feel like a joke then I don't deserve to have you stay, but I beg you to just hear me out if you are so determined to go." I was crumbling again. It couldn't be. I had to be right, I couldn't have made such a fundamental error of judgement. "I…I have _never_ said anything to you I didn't mean. I said you were beautiful, that was _never_ a lie. Every time I kissed you I meant it with everything I had, why can't you just accept that?" I wasn't even sure myself. "And…to hear you say that I was a convenience…perhaps I just don't want to face whatever facts I refused to see, but I don't believe you." I let out a trembling breath that I wasn't even aware I'd been holding. I couldn't see a deception in his eyes, or hear it in his voice that shook me with its sincerity.

It was now or never.

"Answer me this, and I will tell you the truth, for I seem to no longer care for dignity." I could barely look at him. "Darkness took me, and I remember nothing but twisted thoughts and confused dreams, perhaps visions. I fought you, I know that much, but I almost killed you. As the light flooded in, you spoke to me. If you would tell me again what you said, speak now, else say nothing and let me go." It was a bold move. Bolder than I'd thought myself capable of. But it was out in the open. It was his move now, and I would act according to his response.

His response, however, was not something I could have predicted with much certainty.

"I love you." His face hadn't changed. Again, I saw no deception. Something inside me screamed that this was a joke and couldn't possibly be happening in any kind of logical universe, and yet it was. I tried to remain impassive. "That was what I said. It was intended for shock value, and yet I realised as I said it that it was entirely true, and still is." A bucketful of ice emptied itself onto my head and turned to a warm haze as it continued to my toes. I still couldn't speak. Once again his hands cupped my face, but this time I didn't push him away. I didn't think I could even if I had wanted to. His thumb brushed over the tip of my ear, following a braid that tucked behind until it rested on the back of my neck. The other branded a path across my cheek and eyelids, which I realised I had closed at some point. My breathing failed to come steadily.

And then finally he kissed me, and my troubles and doubt melted with my defences as I surrendered to the delicious inferno building up in my stomach. After a thousand years my eyes opened and there he was still, just as a moment ago. "I love you." He said again. "I'm not sure for how long I've known, but I know now, and that seems to be the only thing I'm certain of anymore. Please—" he let out a sound that was between a pained laugh and a sigh, "please, tell me if this is completely futile because I'm tired of wanting you more than anything and not being able to have you." This was happening, and it was happening to me. The absurdity and unlikelihood of this event bemused me, and still I could say nothing. I couldn't speak, but I had somehow regained control of my motor functions, and I pulled him towards me once again as my answer.

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Rai: Sorry this was so short and took so long . ! Again, stupid comp problems, and this was a hard scene to write. Next chappie will be super long to compensate, so wait with bated breath because it'll turn things nicely on their head and _definitely_ is not one to be missed.


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